When Gold Bites Back
by Booksnake3
Summary: AU: Everyone survives BOFA, but rebuilding a kingdom - especially one of renowned wealth - is trickier than it seems and there will always be those plotting to claim their share of treasure...or steal it. Is anywhere really safe? (Lots of evil plot building up to angst in later chapters, R&R!)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello dear readers! Welcome to my new story and if you are lazy just skip the Author's notes :)**

_More rambling from me at the bottom, but I'll just summarise the important stuff here._

_This is officially the sequel to Only Spiders for Company, the fic I wrote almost a year ago. If you have not read that, you can either go and read it now, though I will warn you that my writing gradually improves as the story goes on, or you can read the summary of the stuff that matters in a minute._

__There will be no outright slash in this fic, and all the characters have important parts to play, but in this universe Kili and Tauriel do have feelings for each other although they are unwilling to act on them yet for various reasons. Perhaps there will come a day when I will write another story solely centred around them, but it is not this day.__

_The background information:_

_In my previous story, the spider attack went a little differently and as a result Fili and Kili ended up spending an extended time with the elves, but not as prisoners. Kili and Tauriel got more bonding time, and Fili managed to befriend Legolas and some other random members of the Mirkwood Guard. With many, many events in between, all the main characters survived the Battle of the Five Armies (because come next month we will all need a few more BOFA survival fics in our lives) and this story is set the summer after Erebor is reclaimed, with Thorin cured of dragon sickness and reigning King Under the Mountain._

_I don't own anything._

_At last, on with the story!_

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><p>Tauriel readjusted her grip on her bow as she ran lightly through the forest. Streaks of morning light drifted through the canopy high above, trailing yellow ribbons across the dark trunks around her. The morning smelled like dew on leaves, of a healthy growing forest, and Tauriel smiled at what her home had become in the eight short months since Mithrandir expelled the Necromancer from Dol Guldur. Of course, darkness would still linger for a long time yet in the Greenwood, and the occasional party of orcs or spiders would provide some interest in Tauriel's job, but in the area directly around the King's palace and, perhaps more significantly, in the area directly north of it, the darkness had retreated to a mere shadow of a memory. Tauriel herself refused to take any direct responsibility for this, but Legolas and many other elves (and a small number of dwarves, in fact) insisted that it was by her diligence and determination to eliminate all remnants of the enemy that Mirkwood was finally becoming know as the Greenwood once more.<p>

It was also her fault, according to a certain son of Thranduil, that relations with the dwarves newly reestablished in Erebor were going so swimmingly. Tauriel smirked to herself as she continued to run through the forest. She would give herself no credit for that at all; in fact, it was almost entirely down to the two dwarven princes that things were going so well in both the Greenwood and Erebor. As if their unexpected stay in the palace just over half a year ago wasn't enough to convince Thranduil that dwarves could be good allies, they had somehow managed to convince their own uncle that the elves were not to be avoided at all costs, but rather to communicate with and to establish new, if tentative, connections. It was through Fili and Kili that the King under the Mountain extended the (reluctant) hand of friendship to Tauriel's folk, and it was to those two that Thranduil offered his people's friendship back.

An opportunity not to be missed, in Tauriel's opinion. Right now she was headed to the new guard training outpost, quite far north of the palace for the simple reason that it was equidistant from her home and Erebor. It had been her idea from the start, and one that she was quite proud of, to merge the training of dwarves and elves in order to broaden the young warriors' horizons, and it had been quite a surprise for her when the King had announced that he approved the new construction as long as Erebor did. Actually, Tauriel had a feeling that 'Erebor' hadn't approved it at all, but Kili had agreed anyway on behalf of his uncle and Throrin didn't have to know anything about it.

Dwalin was the official head of guard in Erebor nowadays, but it seemed that Kili had taken it upon himself to get quite involved in the weapons training of young dwarves in the past months as they trickled in from the far corners of Middle Earth. His excuse, the last time Tauriel had asked him why, was that his brother had many more duties as crown prince and that gave Kili a lot of free time on his hands. Tauriel suspected it had more to do with the opportunity to leave the confines of the mountain now and again. The cadets went on a lot of expeditions in the newly-made-safe lands around Erebor, which no doubt Kili enjoyed just as much as the dwarflings did.

He would be at the new training outpost, she knew. He had promised to be there at its opening. She just hoped she wouldn't be late.

Glancing up through the branches, she realised that it was probably futile. The first young elves and dwarves were supposed to be arriving there at noon, and despite the fact that she had another couple of hours to get there, she still had a long way to go. Why couldn't she have gone with the cadets like Amras suggested? They had camped overnight in the forest to do the journey in two manageable legs. Instead, Tauriel had elected to rise long before sunrise and run the whole way in one morning. Her legs felt like they were dying. Her lungs were burning up and there was the distinct taste of blood in her mouth. But her head felt clear and she was happy. She was going to see Kili again for the first time in...well, only two weeks, actually - but still, it felt like a lot longer than that.

"Tauriel!"

Her head whipped round at the sound of the familiar voice, and she almost stumbled on a tree root, coming to a halt just in time and peering through the trees in the direction of the voice.

"Cellissel?"

"Here!" a young female elf, shorter than Tauriel but tall nonetheless and sporting a mischievous grin, slid down from a tree with grace only an elf could ever manage, then spoiled it immediately by stubbing her toe on a tree root and giving a clumsy hop while uttering a dirty curse.

"Language," chided Tauriel with an amused smirk, "otherwise you'll be turning into a dwarf."

"And you know just what they're like," Cellissel's grin was back and she winked cheekily at her leader.

Tauriel tried to keep her face neutral, but a small smile made its way there nonetheless as she thought about Kili. The young guard's grin widened as she spotted it, and Tauriel sighed. After the Battle of Five Armies, there had been several spaces in the palace guard which, as captain, Tauriel had been obliged to fill with hand selected young warriors. Needless to say, it hadn't been easy. Many elves had been lost in that battle, and not many were willing to join up after witnessing the carnage that combat brought, and Tauriel herself had found it hard with the knowledge that whoever she selected, she was putting their life in danger simply by the nature of the job. It had never bothered her before, but after the loss of so many friends... She had sworn to do her utmost to protect her warriors, her King, the forest that had always been her home and the people she loved. At one time, she would have said that there was no one left she loved. Now she knew that to be far from true. However, in the end promises never meant much where the enemy was concerned.

Cellissel was one such elf whom Tauriel had recruited for her surprising stealth. Despite being mediocre with a bow and rather dismal with a sword, the young she-elf could sneak up behind pretty much any creature and take it out with a knife before it knew what had hit it. This was why Tauriel had put aside her reservations about Cellissel's age - barely over a century old - in the knowledge that in a dangerous situation, it would be second nature for her to sink into the background unnoticed. Not that you would be able to tell from Cellissel's extroverted nature - but Tauriel knew it was all just an innate judgement of what risks are worth taking.

"Are we going to get going then? You're already late," Cellissel remarked, reaching up and swinging casually from an overhanging bough.

"You're right, I didn't realise it would take me this long," agreed Tauriel, "Did you wait all this time for me?"

"Amras told me to. Oh, yes, I forgot. There was a message to pass on," her brows drew together for a moment. "Amras was sure it was for you. It's written in dwarvish, though."

Cellissel brushed her light chestnut hair back and at first Tauriel thought she was going to draw an arrow, but then her hand returned with a folded piece of parchment. It was small, but Tauriel unfolded it with excitement nevertheless. There was only one dwarf who ever wrote to her, and if her suspicion was correct, it wouldn't be in dwarvish at all. Due to the barrier that prevented anyone other than a dwarf from learning the dwarvish language or the runes used to write in it, and due to Kili's somewhat puzzling inability to decipher elvish writing (not that Tauriel had ever cared for the intricacies of language anyway), they had come well on their way to creating a new shorthand for the common speech, only known to themselves, and, of course, Fili, since Kili could keep nothing from his brother. Legolas had found out and expressed a desire to learn it, however so far he had not found the time. Now Tauriel's eyes skimmed over the sharp, rigid lines of Kili's handwriting, strongly resembling carven runes, and read:

_Dear Tauriel,_

_Meet by rocks SE of outpost noon._

_Kili_

Tauriel frowned. What did Kili want to see her for so desperately that he wanted to meet her in private before the opening? It could be something about the King. His King. His Uncle. That was the most likely explanation, Tauriel decided, since she knew Thorin had been a cause of worry for both brothers ever since the initial episode of dragon sickness. It couldn't be anything worse, surely? The possibilities were numerous, though, Tauriel knew, so with a nod and a beckon to Cellissel she set off at a faster run than before, towards where Kili waited.

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><p>Kili paced the clearing anxiously, ears alert for sounds that weren't the leaves rustling or the birds singing. The sun was almost overhead, and Tauriel should be arriving any minute now. He hadn't been sure at first whether it was a good idea to send word ahead by way of raven, but then a part of him that sounded uncannily like his brother reminded him that the worst that could happen was Tauriel not turning up. He didn't know why he was listening for sounds though. His inferior dwarven hearing would never pick up the almost silent footfalls of elves in their own forest.<p>

He continued pacing. His fingers jerked periodically towards the bow on his back whenever he thought he heard a sound louder than the faint voices in the background belonging to the rowdy group of dwarflings he had brought here. Movements caught out of the corner of his eye kept him on high alert. But there was a difference between being on high alert and just plain jumpy, and he feared he was edging closer to the latter by the minute. How much longer would he have to wait?

Distraction came unexpectedly. A loud caw sounded from overhead and a raven swooped down onto Kili's hand, which he had flung out in surprise but now held steady as the surprisingly heavy bird landed on it. The prince of Erebor's eyes widened as he took in the raven's bedraggled appearance.

"What has happened?" he asked urgently, "Is it Fili?"

Fili was supposed to be in Dale for conferences regarding rebuilding and the aid of the dwarves in that matter. Though the men had carpenters and stonemasons aplenty, it was common knowledge that the dwarves were more skilled at the various crafts, particularly when it came to stone and metal, and Bard had not been so vain as to refuse the help when Fili persuaded Thorin to offer it. Now all that remained was sorting out the finer details, which were infinitely more complicated now that the kingdom of Erebor was all but up and running.

"Left man-town! Left man-town!" croaked the raven.

"Fili left Dale?" frowned Kili. Fili hadn't meant to leave until this evening at earliest.

"Ride this way! No guard!" the raven continued.

"What? Why would he do that?" exclaimed Kili.

The raven ruffled his feathers in what looked like a shrug. "Bad men on road! Steal! Take things! Needs help!"

This jolted Kili into action. Without a second thought he threw the raven into the air, and it circled around his head a few times, cawing mournfully.

"Show me which way!" ordered Kili, forgetting for a moment all about Tauriel and the reason he was in the clearing to begin with. The raven flew off, and suddenly remembering, Kili scratched a hasty arrow into a tree so that Tauriel might follow him. Then, with no time to lose, he set off at a sprint after the frantically flapping raven.

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><p>Legolas was in his father's halls, but he was not at ease. Far from it, in fact. Back and forth he paced, back and forth, and yet there was still no sound but the soft pad of the soles of his feet against the cool stone floor. How much longer until the doors to the throne room opened and he would be granted entry? How much longer until he burst in of his own accord, unable to take it any longer? Back and forth, back and forth.<p>

Looking at it from his perspective, it was ridiculous. Why on earth would the envoy from Laketown want to talk to his father completely alone, on a matter of simple trade? It didn't sit well with Legolas, but the Lake man had seemed quite adamant and Thranduil had seen no reason not to oblige. A simple merchant hardly posed a threat to the King of Eryn Lasgalen. Legolas had been ordered from the throne room and told to wait outside - and he could hardly disobey his own father in such a mundane task. But what on earth could be taking so long?

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the doors were flung open wide and the prince of the Greenwood took a jump backwards to avoid being stumbled into by the Laketown envoy, who didn't look very happy and shot Legolas a dirty look before striding out of the halls and the open gates. Thranduil stood a few feet back from the arched doorway, arms folded over his chest and eyes glowering quietly. Legolas looked from the man's retreating form to his father and back again.

"What did he want?"

"It is of no importance. You will learn in due course," Thranduil dismissed with an airy wave and an expression of disdain, sweeping back round and gliding to his antlered throne, not bothering to look at his son.

Legolas frowned, but he knew when it was time to depart his father's company, so with a final glance towards the closing gates he sighed and began to walk away. That was when something on the ground caught his eye: a piece of parchment. He looked swiftly around, but seeing that no one was paying him any attention, he stooped down and picked it up. It looked like it had fallen out of the Lake man's pocket.

Checking he was not being followed, Legolas walked quickly down a narrow passageway and unfolded the parchment with deft fingers. In the dim light it was hard to make out the exact nature of the runes, but they certainly weren't elvish, or indeed any type of lettering that he knew. To be honest, they looked dwarvish, but he wouldn't know - the dwarvish laws forbade any other race from learning their language or their script, so though Legolas had asked Fili about it a couple of times, the prince of Erebor had been unable to tell him anything except that it was a closely kept secret.

Perhaps Fili would be able to read this letter, then, if it was some sort of dwarvish. Since the letter had been dropped by a man, Legolas had his doubts - but still, Fili had a better chance than any elf of decoding the message, and Legolas wasn't sure who else he would trust with it.

His decision made, the prince of Eryn Lasgalen folded the letter and strode away towards the higher levels. He knew several secret exits which would get him out of the palace and into the forest without relying on the magic gates, and he preferred to use these at most times because it meant no one needed to worry about when he would return. This errand would not take long.

The halls grew cooler the higher he climbed, and the air fresher. Soon the deserted corridor he was following came to an abrupt end and the ceiling stooped down to almost meet the rising earth floor. This was where Legolas slid onto his front and began to wriggle along, pressed hard against cold ground on all sides. The tunnel narrowed sideways too and the only reason he did not get stuck was his elvish leanness; a dwarf would never fit down here. Ahead it was pitch black, but he knew what was coming, having used this route out of the palace for hundreds of years. It never failed. In fact, it was one of the easier and safer secret passages into the open, the others having either steep climbs, freezing swims or too many oblivious elves to get past. If getting into the King's palace was easy, the kingdom would have been lost long ago.

Finally he reached the place where he would make his exit, signified by a sharp turn in the tunnel which he knew, should he continue, would lead to an overhang above the underground river right next to a treacherous waterfall. He had only been that way once, and never planned to go down there again. His pale fingers searched above him for the lever, and sure enough, there it was. A wooden board swung upwards as he pushed it, just high enough for him to raise his head and let his eyes adjust to the sudden bright light of midday. Checking all around, he confirmed that the coast was clear, and in a moment he had hauled himself out of the tunnel and onto the convenient root of a tree, letting the trap door click into place behind him. The other good thing about this tunnel was that it led into the middle of nowhere - a place in the forest just like every other, beside a tree no different to the thousands that surrounded it except for the particular way that the ivy grew over it. No one who stumbled through this place by accident would have any clue what lay just under their feet.

With practised ease, Legolas slung his bow and quiver of arrows onto his back, then tightened one shoelace absentmindedly. It was the sort of sunny summer weather that made some people drowsy and other people more awake, and Legolas fell without a doubt into the latter category. Leaping through the forest with the ease of a wild animal, Legolas could feel the life around him, the flourishing trees and carefree creatures of his home, bursting from the cracks in the darkness that had smothered Mirkwood like a blanket for so long and living as if to make a statement that however long you try to suppress the good, it will always find a chink in the armour and break through again. It always made the Elven Prince smile.

The tree he was aiming for was fairly near the river, and almost at the edge of the forest. The ravens seemed to like this tree the most, and Legolas wasn't going to complain since it wasn't too difficult to climb. The lowest branch was only a few of feet above his head and he could easily grasp it with his hands if he jumped a little. From there, he swung himself up and rose to his feet, balanced perfectly on the thick bark, and reached for the next branch, which was also just above his head. After that it got a lot easier, as the branches became more numerous and closer together, but also just far apart enough for him not to snag himself every time he made to move. Before long, he was as high as he could get without the risk of snapping a branch and falling. Unsurprisingly, there were several ravens perched on trees nearby, and at Legolas' call a few of them turned their heads and flew over to sit on the thin branches above him. The tip of the tree swayed lightly under their weight, but neither Legolas nor the ravens were perturbed.

"Would you take this..." he pulled the piece of parchment folded up several times from his dusty pocket, "to the mountain? Give it to Fili, the prince." He handed the letter over to the nearest raven, who took it in its beak and gave a sharp bob of its head. Legolas smiled. "Thank you. If he cannot be found at the mountain, go to Dale. I recall something about a meeting. Now go!" Legolas threw up his arm and the ravens all took flight, soaring away towards the distant peak which was the Lonely Mountain. He watched them go until they were mere specs against the cloudy sky, then turned to go home.

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><p><em>I hope you enjoyed it, and please review even if you don't want to read the next author's note!<em>

_I promise I will update AT LEAST once a week, so even if the plot seems a little slow at times, it will definitely get somewhere soon. :)_

_I will also start to include a chapter summary at the end of each chapter, so the characters I've invented don't get too confusing and you can try and guess where I'm headed in the end. :)_

_I can promise eventual whump in this story, though I won't give away who it is (you might be able to guess from my history) so you can look forward to that! I know I am!_

_(I admit to being evil when it comes to things like this)_

**P.s. Reviews? Pretty please? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

_Here's an early chapter because I'm feeling generous :)_ _Quite a short one, but it has a bit of brotherly fluff then some plot building so I hope you'll enjoy it. Massive thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed or favourited, it's great to know that people are going to be with me on this story :)_

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><p>Kili's limbs were aching by the time he reached the road, but he did not even notice. The raven led him onwards at a dwarf's sprinting pace and he did not even contemplate slowing down when his brother could be in danger. The first drop of rain landed on the tip of his finger, and he cursed inwardly, not having the breath to spare to voice his irritation.<p>

The land around here was, as a whole, flat, from just out of the forest all the way to the small foothills and spurs of Erebor, which meant that Kili had a long view of the makeshift road which wound its way towards Dale. The only problem was that, in the last spring, the grass and bracken here had grown at an alarming pace and was now over two feet high. Anything could be hiding to the side of the path, just ready to jump out at him. He sped up his pace.

The rain had started to fall with slightly more purpose when Kili rounded a bend and almost tripped over the figure lying across the road, golden hair splayed apart and a small trickle of blood running down from behind one ear. The raven he had been following let out a loud caw and circled into the air high above, then flew off in the direction of the mountain to rejoin its kin. Kili bent down, heart hammering in his chest, and gently rolled his brother onto his back.

"Fili... Fili, open your eyes, please brother," Kili whispered, dark hair falling across his face, which he quickly brushed back behind his ear. "Oh Fili..."

As carefully as possible, Kili tilted his brother's head to the side so that he could see where the blood was coming from. Thankfully, it was only a small trickle, but when he moved his fingers over Fili's warm scalp, Kili felt a huge swelling lump on the back of his brother's head, underneath the blanket of yellow hair. There was a small gasp, and the younger prince flinched, realising he had hurt his brother, pulling his hand away quickly. His fingers came away sticky with bright blood.

A pair of blue eyes fluttered open, and the heir of Erebor gazed blearily upwards.

"Kili?"

"I'm here, Fili," Kili smiled down with lines of concern between his brows.

"What happened?" Fili frowned, managing to push himself into a sitting position and reaching up instinctively to the spot on the back of his head, flinching when he touched it.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," replied Kili, "I was in Mirkwood, then this mad raven came along and started squawking that you were hurt. Are you all right?"

"I'll be fine in a bit," said Fili, rubbing his head ruefully, "I can feel a black eye coming on." He smiled sheepishly. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything," shrugged Kili, "But are you _sure_ you're all right? Your head is bleeding."

"They must have knocked me out," replied Fili, "Does it look bad? I've got an awful headache."

"There's a lot of blood," admitted Kili, "But head wounds bleed a lot don't they? The rain will probably wash it out. As long as you remember everything - do you?"

"I think so," said Fili unsurely.

"You _think_?" Kili raised his eyebrows, "Just to be sure, why don't you tell me the reason you were lying unconscious on a road between Mirkwood and Dale with no one else in sight? Who knocked you out? Why are you here? You gave me quite a scare."

"Hmmm..." Fili mused for a moment, hand on his forehead. Kili rocked back on the balls of his feet, hugging his knees and waiting for an answer. "Well, I was in Dale for the conferences, but that took no time so they finished a day early. Then, this morning, I remembered you were in Mirkwood and I realised I had enough time..."

"So you set off _alone_?"

"Yes. On a pony."

"A pony? Where's the pony now? In fact, forget that, what in _Mahal's name_ inspired you to set off alone? The lands aren't _that_ safe, you know."

"I know," groaned Fili, "It was stupid. But I wasn't meant to be going to the new training outpost in the first place - I know that Uncle doesn't even know it exists - so I figured it would be better not to tell anyone about it and just say I was going back to Erebor. I could have easily made it back before anyone started worrying."

"Exactly," said Kili grimly, "You could have been lying in the road for several days before anyone even thought to go looking for you."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Is this you lecturing me about safety protocol?"

"For once, I'm not the one breaking it," shot back Kili with a smirk.

"Oh, but of course you're not unlawfully taking eight dwarflings under the age of forty to a secret outpost in a dangerous forest to correspond with our ancient enemies who our own uncle hates with his entire being?" Fili replied without hesitation.

There was a pause, in which the accused dwarf struggled to think of a good comeback.

"Oh shut up, just finish the story so we can get to the forest," Kili said at last, wiping a strand of rain-saturated hair from his forehead. The rain didn't bother him that much, and while it showed little sign of relenting, it also showed no sign of worsening so he figured it was safe for now. Once he was sure Fili was all right, they would make for the shelter of Mirkwood.

"Right. What happened next. Well, I was about here when these three men - I'm pretty sure there were three of them, and they weren't dwarves or elves - ambushed me. They knocked me out fairly quickly; I don't remember much but I didn't have time to draw my swords. I might have given one of them a nosebleed. After that...nothing, until you showed up," Fili shrugged helplessly.

"Did they take anything? Do you still have your swords?" asked Kili with a deep frown.

"They didn't take my swords," said Fili, reaching a hand to his shoulder to check, "I had a couple of saddlebags full of gold, and it looks like they're gone along with the pony. It's fortunate they didn't search me properly, or they might have found this," he held a smooth round pebble in his hand, engraved with dwarven runes. Kili smiled knowingly. Though the quest had been a success and they had both survived, the promises they made to their mother a full two years ago they still held close to their hearts, and the small, worthless stone in Fili's hand meant more to its owner than any dragon's trinket.

"It's a good thing they didn't know your status then," pointed out Kili.

It was true - Fili was wearing a travelling cloak over his royal attire so no symbol of his heritage was visible to strangers.

"Or a bad thing. Perhaps if they'd known who I was then they wouldn't have picked a fight. This doesn't end here," Fili countered, "They will be tracked down and punished."

Kili frowned pensively. "They must have known you were coming to be ready to ambush you. Perhaps they did know who you are."

Fili's eyes widened as he realised his brother was right. "That puts them in even bigger trouble."

"If we find them."

"When we find them."

Kili grinned. "You're right. There's no way I'm letting those filthy criminals get away unpunished for hurting my brother." He bent down and grasped Fili's forearm, pulling his brother to his feet with a grunt.

"Ah, my head!" groaned Fili as he stood, closing his eyes for a moment and raking his fingers through his damp hair.

"Are you all right?" Kili queried, putting a steadying hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Fili reassured him, opening his eyes again and smiling. "Let's go. I don't like this weather."

* * *

><p>A formal knock sounded on the heavy wooden doors in the halls of Erebor.<p>

"Come in."

The elvish messenger entered warily, and Thorin took his time turning to face him, resisting a sigh.

"Your majesty," the messenger bowed low, and the King Under the Mountain was pleased to see at least this one had some respect. Not like some other elves he'd met.

"What does Thranduil say this time?" Thorin blandly cut out the time wasting niceties.

"Your majesty, my King sends me to request a favour."

"A favour?" Thorin frowned. This was not like Thranduil.

"Y-yes, your majesty," the messenger suddenly seemed a little unsure, "Um...for Laketown."

"Why cannot the master of Laketown request this favour himself? Why must he send an elf to do it?"

"Due to, um...better...better connections," the elf replied, then drew himself up and gave a confident nod.

Thorin narrowed his eyes. "What is your name?"

"Arradon," replied the elf without hesitation.

The Dwarf King ceased his pacing and turned to fully face his visitor.

"Then what is the favour which the Elvenking demands for Laketown, which the Master could not request himself?"

"Aid in...in rebuilding the town on the banks of the lake," the elf said, then paused. Thorin nodded for him to continue. "Please understand, the people of Laketown lost everything when the dragon burned their home, and while you generously gave a share of the gold to Dale and Mirkwood, Laketown received nothing. They have been rebuilding by the charity of the elves alone, but that is not enough to sustain living. Without help, Laketown faces a future of poverty."

"So you ask for gold?" Thorin narrowed his eyes. "What will you do with gold? Melt it down and turn it into bricks? Or make a currency so your corrupt officials can hoard it and let the people suffer, again? You ask for aid and that I can give. But treasure? Treasure is worthless in a place such as Laketown, except for broadening the divide between rich and poor. The past will repeat itself and Laketown will be no better off than it was before. For the sake of the people, my answer to that is no."

"You...you will not help?" Arradon seemed taken aback.

"If by help you mean aid in the renewed corruption of men, then no, I will not help," Thorin glowered. "If the master of Laketown requires manual assistance or building materials, I suggest he sends one of his own envoys or requests a meeting personally."

With this, Thorin swept away towards the back of the room, and when he looked back around, the elf was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief, and moved back to the centre of the room again.

"Stuck up tree-huggers," came the voice of Thorin's closest friend, and Dwalin moved out from the shadows by the door, heavy footfalls echoing around the perfectly carven stone hall and his usual expression of irritation mixed with disgust on his face - the one which he chose to sport whenever an elf was around.

Thorin grimaced sympathetically. It always made him feel better to know that Dwalin felt exactly the same way as he did about elves and could voice it for both of them.

"If you ask me," the warrior growled, "that pointy eared stick insect was lying through his teeth."

"No doubt," agreed Thorin, "I'd be surprised if Arradon was even his real name. But he makes a good point about Laketown."

"What?" asked Dwalin, "All I heard was a load of smooth unmitigated rubbish."

"But it is true that Laketown has not had our aid since the Battle."

"So? The tree-huggers are helping them. We don't need to get involved -"

"True..."

"- and anyway, the Master sent an _elf_ to negotiate, when he knows full well the feud; something is definitely fishy about this."

"You are right, Dwalin," declared Thorin, abruptly ceasing his pacing, "We need to get to the bottom of this. Can you send someone to follow him?"

"Consider it done," Dwalin gave an efficient little bow and strode out of the room.

Thorin, alone in the chamber, leant against the wall and closed his eyes, pushing against the distorted vision that still lingered in the back of his mind. He could fight it. He could fight it. He had to fight it.

* * *

><p><em>So, what's going on with Thorin? Who ambushed Fili on the road and for what reason? Are the two events in any way linked? Only time will tell ;)<em>

_Please bear in mind that the title of this fic is in progress, because as usual I thought of it two minutes before I put up the first chapter...so if you have any ideas I would love to hear them!_

_I live for reviews, so good or bad, tell me what you think, what you liked, how I could improve, anything at all. Or just two words to say you're out there reading, I really don't mind :)_

_(I won't lie, the more I feel people are enjoying this story the more often I'll post, so your input will make a difference!)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Here's an extra-long chapter for you, and it's only been three days since the last one!_

_Thank you for the wonderful reviews for last chapter, they prompted me to get this one out to you even sooner._

_There is a summary of the important points at the end of this chapter, so if any of it is going straight over your head don't worry, the plot will keep moving! :)_

_I did mention in the first chapter that this isn't really slash, but for those Kili/Tauriel shippers out there, this chapter is a present for you :)_

_(Forgive any typos, I edited this with a cat lying halfway across my iPad)_

* * *

><p>Leaves rustled and the forest was filled with the steady patter of rain falling through the boughs. Tauriel stepped into the rocky clearing alone, and frowned. She was definitely at the right place. Sheltering the parchment with her hand, she checked again:<p>

_Meet by rocks SE of outpost noon_

She was at the rocks, and she guessed it was only just past noon, though the clouds now blocked out the sun so it was impossible to tell. Kili wouldn't have left her, would he? Perhaps he simply hadn't arrived yet. But it wasn't as if Tauriel was early...

That was when she saw the scratch on the tree. It was only a small thing, but it was clearly in the shape of an arrow, pointing approximately east, out of the forest and into the plains beyond. Was this some sort of trail? Or a trick? The message could be from no one else but Kili, however, so scratching a small triangle into the rocks beneath the arrow - should Kili come back and find she was gone - Tauriel adjusted her quiver on her back and leapt lightly in the direction the arrow pointed.

Barely a minute later, she was at the edge of the forest. The rain cast a dreary shadow across all that lay beyond the shelter of the trees, and Erebor, usually clearly visible on the horizon, was obscured by the grey watercolour haze. Tauriel cast her eyes over the flat lands before her - those which were close enough to see - and suddenly thought she could make out some movement about halfway between where she stood and the horizon. A short figure was coming slowly through the grass. No, make that two short figures, she realised, as they moved slightly apart. Ignoring the annoying way the rain dripped down into her eyes, Tauriel ran out into the open and along the increasingly muddy path until she could see the two dwarves clearly.

"Kili! Fili!" her face split open in a grin.

"Tauriel!" Kili cried, finally recognising the elf, "You saw the arrow?"

"That pathetic scratch on a tree trunk? So you did draw that after all?"

"I was in a rush!" defended Kili, then he grinned. "You've got water dripping into your eyes."

"I am aware," replied Tauriel, reaching up to wipe some away with a finger, "Not everyone is as fortunate as you when it comes to eyebrows."

Fili looked sideways at his brother, then nodded approvingly. "Very fine eyebrows."

Kili grinned and wiggled them up and down, causing the others to laugh.

"You have, however, got a drop of water hanging off the end of your nose," Tauriel pointed out teasingly, and Kili's face immediately went serious as he rehearsed his best Thorin glower. It cracked immediately when Fili elbowed him hard in the ribs, causing him to double over with a mixture of groaning and laughter.

"Come on, brother," Fili said, tugging gently on Kili's arm, "It'll be dryer in the forest, and we're all late for the opening of the outpost."

As it turned out they were not late at all, since the schedule could not go ahead without the head of Mirkwood guard or the representative of Erebor, which meant that Amras had been forced to wait with the impatient young dwarves and elves and hope that Tauriel and Kili wouldn't take long in turning up. They decided to skip the official speeches, since neither the group of young elves or dwarves looked the slightest bit interested and no one was in favour of getting wetter than they were already. Instead, the group of cadets was led into the large wooden hut and the adults gratefully followed, glad to have a chance to get dry.

The hut itself was built entirely by elves, the dwarves being unable to help because their king was in fact not aware of it at all, however it extended underground as well as into the trees via a ladder of grooves up the trunk of a sturdy, thick tree. This was to accommodate both elves and dwarves, who would use the outpost in equal measure.

Tauriel scanned her eyes around the room they had just entered, and smiled in approval. It was a cloakroom of sorts, with pegs on the wall and wide benches around the edges, where the dwarves and elves were seating themselves, as far away from each other as possible, she noted. The elf cadets were just as she had expected: a dozen young warriors between sixty and seventy years in age, most not having reached their adult height yet, all with bows of varying craftsmanship strung across their backs. A few carried knives. Many of them were whispering among themselves, casting wary glances across to the dwarves on the other side of the room, and Tauriel could see why. The dwarves, merely seven of them, were between the ages of thirty and forty - not that Tauriel would have been able to tell had Kili not informed her on the way here - and they were quite an intimidating sight, with an assortment of axes and swords on their backs and at their sides, and not a bow in sight. She was amused to see that a couple of the larger ones had more beard than Kili.

To the side, a safe distance away from each other, stood a slightly older elf and dwarf. Hinnor was an elf of eighty-two years, a keen archer who had been taught by Legolas himself. He had been one of the first to volunteer when Tauriel had asked for warriors to join the guard, but though she knew he would be capable of passing the tests, he was simply too young. Tauriel drew the line at one hundred years old, and that meant Hinnor had at least eighteen more years to go before she would even consider letting him join. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't tag along to the outpost with the younger students; he would be a good mentor for them.

It seemed Kili had had much the same idea. The dwarf who stood several feet away from Hinnor looked older than the other cadets but definitely younger than the princes. His beard was even less present than Kili's; barely more than pale ginger down, like the feathers of a newborn chick, and he seemed to carry his weapons more comfortably than the others, namely a huge axe that Tauriel wondered that he could even lift on his back. That was when he noticed Tauriel staring and glowered back hard enough to make any sensible elf recoil.

Fili cleared his throat loudly, and the gossiping and chattering quickly fizzled out as all eyes turned to the older prince. Apparently, though, Fili hadn't wanted to speak, because it was Kili who stepped forward and addressed the room.

"As you all know, you sitting in the first ever dwarf-elf weapons training outpost, which will double for a guard outpost for both Erebor and Mirkwood -"

"_Eryn Lasgalen_," whispered Tauriel quickly in his ear.

"Eryn Lasgalen," corrected Kili, flashing her a sheepish grin, "Anyway, the point of us being here is to broaden our training and hopefully improve our ability to work together, and am I right that everybody here wants to improve their skill at fighting?"

A rowdy chorus of agreement went up around the dwarves, while the elves stayed quiet, though some of them nodded eagerly.

"Great," Kili grinned around the room, "That means the first thing to do is to introduce ourselves. Âlof, care to start us off?"

The dwarf with the feathery beard stepped forward, gave a little bow, and said: "Âlof daughter of Franmar at your service."

Tauriel's eyes widened. A _girl_? Though now she took a closer look at Âlof, she could kind of see it in her face... Who would have thought, though? Kili had warned her that female dwarves grew beards just like the men, but she had never actually seen it for herself and to tell the truth a part of her had simply not believed him, half wondering if it was another of his jokes to poke fun at the Elven race. She was learning something today.

"Very good, Âlof," Kili complimented, "But perhaps we ought to stick to first names so as not to confuse the elves here. I'm sure they find our dwarvish names quite enough to remember without learning our ancestry too. Shall we continue?" He gestured to the next dwarfling.

"Ginnar"

"Suthri"

"Râthsvith"

"Dûf"

"Gjûki"

"Hogni"

"Orvar"

Taking a good look along the row of young dwarves, Tauriel couldn't be sure but she thought there were no more females among them. Gjûki and Hogni could only be brothers, though Gjûki looked a good couple of years older than Hogni, who was right that moment trying to shuffle as far away from the other as he could. It was rather amusing.

"And my name is Kili, and this is my brother Fili who isn't strictly meant to be here."

"_Hey_!"

"Ow, that hurt!"

Rolling her eyes as Kili massaged his side where Fili had elbowed him, Tauriel continued the round of introductions.

"I am Tauriel, captain of the forest guard."

"Galben"

"Thangur"

"Oreth"

"Eleneril"

"Limel"

"Fainor"

"Súlon"

"Midhon"

"Dinenil"

"Nardhel"

"Helethon"

"Rúdhon"

"Hinnor"

"I will never remember all that," sighed Fili.

"That is not the point," replied Kili quietly. "The point is we get them talking to each other." He turned to the room again and raised his voice. "Âlof, Hinnor, the sleeping quarters are through the back door, down the stairs, left, straight on, then the girls' are on the right and the boys' are on the left. I am leaving you in charge of monitoring them, so I expect no nonsense, understood?"

The dwarf and the elf nodded.

"Good. If there is any trouble beyond your power to solve, however, you must come straight here and tell one of us. For now, everyone find a bunk and leave your belongings including your weapons - yes, you heard me correctly," Kili's amused eyes swept over some incredulous dwarves, "Including your weapons, on your bed, and be back here before it stops raining. Which could be any time, so you had better be quick. Off you go!"

As the cadets filed away through the door in the back of the room, Tauriel beckoned to Amras, who was standing in the far corner, silently observing the events. He came over immediately with a smile.

"Good to see you, Captain," he smiled, "It's been a bit of a handful ever since Cellissel stayed behind for you."

"I hope they weren't too much trouble," said Tauriel, "They're all at that sort of age."

"I honestly couldn't have done it without Hinnor," replied Amras. "He's proved himself a thousand times over. It was only when the dwarves came that things started to get a little tense, but I suppose that will be unavoidable at first."

Tauriel nodded in understanding. "I wonder if we should have gone down to the sleeping quarters with them. Do you think Hinnor can handle seven elves and seven dwarves in one room?"

"Is that what you decided too?"

"What?" she frowned in confusion.

"The only female dwarf is Âlof, and the rest are boys," Amras lowered his voice to a whisper, "That was where the real tension started - I didn't realise that she was female."

Tauriel laughed quietly. "I thought that too, actually, until she said daughter. But we're not the first elves to make that mistake and we certainly won't be the last, so I think it best to take it as a lesson and not make the same mistake ourselves again."

Amras nodded, then tilted his head to the side, as if listening for something. "I think the rain has stopped."

Tauriel listened intently too, and sure enough, the only drips that could be heard on the roof of the hut were the slow, heavy drips of water rolling lazily off leaves. "Is Cellissel scouting outside?"

"Yes, she went to double check the area - not that we're expecting anything, but it's always best to be certain. As a matter of fact, you taught me that," Amras grinned.

"Hey Tauriel?" came Kili's voice from a few feet away, where he was discussing something with Fili that seemed to have them both looking quite worried.

"Yes?"

"How many of your group are female?"

"So you have found that problem too?" Tauriel raised her eyebrows, surprised. She didn't think it was that hard to tell the difference between elf genders, but perhaps it was because all the cadets were so young, and barely into puberty yet. "There are five girls and seven boys - not including Hinnor, the older one, who is male."

"Thought so, just wanted to check," Kili smiled before turning back to his brother.

"It is nice to know it works both ways," commented Amras.

Tauriel cast another fond glance back at the dark haired dwarf, and couldn't help but overhear a snippet of a sentence - "go back alone...dangerous...with you." She frowned, knowing it was not her business (yet) but was thankfully distracted when Cellissel came bursting in through the door, dripping wet and not looking happy. Tauriel remembered that she had recruited Cellissel for her stealth, and refrained from rolling her eyes.

"Someone else can go and do patrolling, I'm going to dry off," she announced, striding across the room without a second glance at any of them.

"But it has stopped raining," Kili frowned, commenting in an undertone to his brother, "Surely outside is just as dry as any place?"

"I heard that!" Cellissel spun round, "And clearly you have not spent enough time in this forest. When it rains, it rains. Fine. But when it stops raining, it drips. Drips. Do you have any idea how irritating that is? No, you don't." She whirled back round again and stormed through the back door, leaving Tauriel, Amras, Kili and Fili staring after her.

"She forgets," said Fili, "We spent several weeks wandering through Mirkwood last autumn. Maybe it's not a lifetime, but it's enough to know how annoying the weather can be."

* * *

><p>The afternoon was in fact quite enjoyable for all of them. Since the rain had stopped, they took the young warriors into a clearing near the outpost and went through some basic training drills, comparing the elvish and dwarvish methods of teaching and exercises. Though there didn't seem to be any friendship yet between the two groups, there was indeed a good deal of competition; whether it was healthy or not remained to be seen. Fili seemed a little uneasy at times, and was unusually quiet around Kili, so Tauriel came to the conclusion that they must have decided something in their quiet talk earlier which the older prince was not entirely happy with, but she did not ask because she could see neither dwarf would be willing to share the information. Instead she found herself talking to Âlof, who was staying as far away from Hinnor and every other elf as possible but did not notice Tauriel sneak up behind her until it was too late to move and avoid her.<p>

"Hello."

"Um..." it was clear the dwarf had no clue how to address the elf.

"How are you finding the forest? I know it must be very different to what you are used to."

She got a blank stare in response.

"I don't bite, you know."

Another long pause.

Tauriel leaned against a tree, slouching to reduce the height difference. This was going to be harder than she expected. She had never known dwarf children were so wary of strangers - well, the adults all were (except Kili, of course) but somehow she had imagined that the younger ones would be more open. Apparently not.

"I won't lock you up if you speak to me," Tauriel sighed, and at last she got some sort of response. Âlof turned her head to face her and tilted it to the side, as if assessing something.

"Prince Kili loves you."

It was so unexpected, Tauriel's stomach did a flip and she was sure her heart doubled in pace. Âlof was still regarding her with something akin to amusement, and Tauriel's eyes flickered across to the other side of the clearing, where Kili stood watching the cadets doing simple hand-to-hand sparring. At that moment, his eyes shifted to meet Tauriel's and he threw her a dashing grin. She smiled back, then turned to see Âlof with triumph in her face.

"See, I told you. I can't see why though," she tilted her head to the other side, with a puzzled expression on her bearded face.

"One smile isn't proof. What do you know?" Tauriel snapped back. She was regretting her decision to approach this dwarfling, as she highly resented other people getting involved in her private life, especially someone whom she had met so recently. She didn't mean to be cutting, she just wasn't comfortable with where this conversation was going. It was only on a rare occasion that she admitted her feelings to herself, let alone to other people.

Âlof, however, simply grinned slyly. "I have five older brothers, and I have watched every single one of them fall in love. The youngest - I watched him pretend to fall in love four times. Then, when he eventually found his one, he wouldn't admit it, because he was a simple miner and she was a high born warrior of the Iron Hills who didn't even plan to stay in Erebor after the Battle." She gave a dramatic sigh. "When she left, he moped for months. But all he needed was a kick in the backside. At the end of the winter I packed his things for him, shoved it in his hand, threw him out the door and told him not to come back without a braid in his hair. And guess what? That's exactly what he did!" Âlof giggled gleefully, and suddenly all Tauriel saw was an excitable teenage girl underneath all the hair and armour and heavy axes.

"Are they married now?" Tauriel asked with a smile.

"Oh yes, they were married the day after they got back," said Âlof matter-of-factly. "But that's not the point! I can tell Kili loves you just from the way he looks at you. Oh look, he just did it again! Why does he do that?"

Tauriel raised her head to look over to the other side of the circle, but she was a moment too late as Kili was already turning his head away. A small part of her was unexpectedly disappointed.

"Do you have a love?" she asked the dwarf lass, wanting to detract the attention from herself and Kili.

"Nah, boys are more trouble than they're worth," shrugged Âlof with a grin, "I'm never going to fall in love."

"That's what I used to think," Tauriel murmured quietly, casting another look over at Kili. Now he was trying to show Hinnor how to escape from various lock positions an enemy might use.

"Aha! You admit it then? You love him?" apparently Âlof had heard.

"Perhaps," replied Tauriel vaguely, then turned on the spot without another word and stalked into the leafy foliage behind.

She did not walk far, and she did not walk fast. Getting away was not really a priority; she wasn't purposefully avoiding people, just finding a quiet spot to think, away from the brash, youthful shouts of the training cadets. Once her ears only heard the rustle of leaves and the quiet twitter of birds, she found a young tree and swung herself up into its lower branches, settling herself in a fork with her back to the trunk. This was her favourite thinking position.

The problem was, Tauriel was used to locking away her feelings, channeling any emotion into killing the enemies that threatened the borders of Eryn Lasgalen. Losing her parents at a young age had forced her to develop a hard shell which did not flinch at the suffering of others but turned her into an efficient killing machine, protecting the home which she loved. It was what gave her a purpose in life, what made her feel needed and useful. Love was something she could live without, as long as she had foes to fight.

And then Kili had come along. For some reason, he alone had managed to break through her protective wall, and make her act on instinct. When he was around, Tauriel felt like it was the easiest thing in the world to forget all the things which threatened them and just be herself for once. And when he had suffered, she had hurt inside, something which she had believed no longer possible until that point - she had believed herself to be beyond reach, unaffected by the emotions which plagued mortals to the point of madness, as distant as the stars...and then, out of the blue, a dwarf of all beings manages to bring her down - or perhaps fly all the way up to reach her. It would be a lie to say she felt nothing anymore.

She heard him coming a full minute before he found her. Moving silently through forests wasn't a skill Tauriel guessed would ever gift itself to the dwarven race.

"You ought to be back at the clearing."

"Tauriel?"

"Up here,"

Kili's head jerked upwards, then he grinned as he saw Tauriel perched in the tree.

"You could have chosen an easier tree to climb," he complained cheekily, readying himself for a run-up.

"You shouldn't be so short," she teased back, casually settling herself more comfortably on the branch with feigned disinterest at Kili's antics as he launched himself at a neighbouring tree, managed to kick off the wide trunk, and clung wildly onto the lowest branch of the tree where Tauriel was situated. A moment later, he was sitting beside her and elbowing her in the ribs to make more room. Faking reluctance, Tauriel obliged, so they were sitting side by side on the wide forking branch, their backs pressed into the tree trunk and their sides pressed against each other.

After a pause, Kili asked, "Why are we up here?"

"I was thinking," replied Tauriel.

Kili took a glance over the side of the branch, then leaned away quickly. "Not a very safe place for thinking," he commented.

Tauriel smirked. "I thought you weren't afraid of heights."

"I'm not! We're not even that far off the ground!" cried Kili indignantly.

"Then what is it?"

"It's just...well...these trees," Kili shivered convulsively, "They used to have spiders in them, and let's just say I haven't forgotten that."

"Ah," Tauriel finally understood. She wouldn't forget the events of eight months ago either, but for an entirely different reason. "So why are you abandoning your duty to come and sit with me?"

"Do I need another reason?" asked Kili innocently, "Fili has it all under control anyway. He's the born leader, not me. He should be training cadets properly."

"But he has enough duties already," said Tauriel, acknowledging what they both already knew, "Is this anything to do with what you want to speak about?"

"Sort of," replied Kili, "He wants to set off home tomorrow at dawn, and I'm going to go with him."

"After what happened on the road between here and Dale," Tauriel guessed.

"Yes. He said he would be fine alone, but I won't let him risk it," Kili sighed. Tauriel was taken aback; he rarely sounded this weary.

"Will you be coming back? The cadets are due to stay here for another week, and I'm sure Âlof would be grateful not to be left entirely in the care of elves," said Tauriel, thinking that Kili could probably use the peace of the forest to relieve his stress a little.

"That depends," Kili replied, a sudden, almost undetectable edge of bitterness in his voice.

Tauriel noticed it, though. "Depends on what?" she asked warily, peering closely at his face.

Kili turned to face her fully, and his eyes were full of a concern which he had long been keeping hidden, afraid of treason - but he knew he could confide in Tauriel. "You know that my uncle doesn't know of this outpost."

Tauriel nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"Well, when I first agreed to it, he was fine, I thought he would just accept it once it was built. But now I don't think that's going to happen."

"Why not?"

"He's becoming possessive again - more hostile towards the Dale men. Fili and I haven't let an elf near him for ages, just in case he gets angry," Kili's expression was pained, "It's like before, except I can't work out what's causing it. It could be the Arkenstone, but I thought he got over that."

"Perhaps the Arkenstone never quite released its hold on him," suggested Tauriel.

Kili grimaced. "Maybe. I'm not sure, though."

"Then what else _could_ it be?"

"I don't know. I just don't know," sighed Kili, sagging in defeat, his unbraided hair falling forward over his eyes.

"Does Fili have any idea?" asked Tauriel gently, brushing a strand of Kili's hair back behind his ear so she could see his face again.

"No. He thinks we should just wait and see if it passes of its own accord, but I don't think it will. I think it's getting worse," he looked up at the elf, and lowered his voice to a whisper, "I saw uncle, the other day, in his study, where he normally doesn't let anyone else go, staring at the map on the wall. He didn't even realise I was in the room - I wasn't meant to be in there anyway - but that's not the only time he's been preoccupied recently. I think...I think he's planning another quest."

A heavy silence fell, and the only noise Tauriel could hear was her own heartbeat, thumping in her chest as if it was trying to escape. It was something of a relief to know that it was still functioning, though she couldn't quite say the same for her mind.

Quietly, she said, "Is this what you wanted to tell me when you sent that raven?"

Kili nodded mutely.

"You... Are you going to follow him?"

The look in the dwarf's brown eyes said it all.

"Oh..." Tauriel leant sideways and wrapped her arms around Kili, unable to speak. He hugged her gently back, allowing her head to rest on his shoulder.

"I don't know how soon it'll be," he said quietly, "it could be a year, even a decade. I don't think he'll set off before mother comes from Ered Luin, and he hasn't told Fili or me yet, so it definitely won't be for a while. You don't need to worry about me."

"I worry about you every day that I don't see you, so it's too late to warn me against that," Tauriel said softly, managing a choked laugh as she pulled reluctantly away from Kili.

"You shouldn't," frowned the dwarf, "I'm fine."

"I know you too well _not_ to worry," Tauriel smiled, "I don't know how your mother has survived since you went off to kill a dragon."

"She had my promise, remember?" said Kili, smiling back.

"Then... Kili, if you do follow your uncle on another quest, can you make me a promise?"

"Of course," replied Kili, sensing the elf's seriousness, "What is it?"

"The same one you made to your mother - come back to me," Tauriel's eyes bored into Kili's, "Wherever Thorin leads you, always come back here," her lips twitched upwards fractionally, "I'll be waiting."

"I will. I promise," said Kili, "Erebor is my home now, and I will always return to it," he suddenly grinned, "In spite of the unfortunate predicament of neighbouring elves, the despicable creatures," he winked cheekily.

"Be careful what you're saying, or I might just push you out of this tree," Tauriel warned, though her face spoke differently, "I'd say you're in dire need of more elvish company. You had better return back here tomorrow evening or I will have no choice but to come to Erebor and kidnap you."

"Not if Uncle kidnaps me first," groaned Kili, "Be prepared for Dwalin to come marching in with an army of guards to escort the cadets back home, because that's definitely a possible outcome when he finds out about this."

Tauriel grimaced in sympathy. "Could you not go back with Fili then turn around when you get to the mountain?"

"Uncle will still find out. Fili will have to explain where he was going when he was ambushed, and he can't pretend he just came from Dale with that black eye of his. This place was bound to be found out about at some point, I guess. We couldn't have kept it a secret forever - the children will no doubt tell their parents, and then the whole mountain will know," Kili shook his head, "I wouldn't leave Fili to face Uncle alone, when most of this is my fault."

"You should not blame yourself. You've done nothing wrong," said Tauriel bluntly.

"No one has, except in Uncle's eyes," replied Kili, "He'll be angry, I know he will. But -"

"Shhh," Tauriel abruptly whispered, stiffening up.

"What?" Kili asked, confused, but Tauriel put a finger to her lips and pointed over the edge of the branch to the forest floor below.

There, moving through the forest like shadows, were a pair of elves. Their faces were hidden by dark brown cloaks and their bows were not slung across their backs but in their hands, ready to be put into use. Then, as one turned slightly towards them, Tauriel caught a glimpse of his face and breathed in sharply. Kili turned with a questioning look.

"They're exiles," she explained in a barely audible whisper, "Just follow me, quietly."

Tauriel stood up on the branch, then with barely an effort, swung herself round the tree and leapt onto the branch of another. Realising that he would never keep up doing the same, and probably break his neck in the process, Kili dropped silently to the ground and ran along beneath the captain of Mirkwood guard, following the same path the exiled elves had taken. They went at quite a pace, and Kili soon fell behind while Tauriel ran through the trees high above him, never slowing down. She could go even faster than the two elves she was following, and slowly but surely she caught up with them, just as they stopped in a small glade uncomfortably close to the large clearing where the training was going on.

The expressions of the elves when Tauriel dropped out of the trees right in front of them were startled, to say the least. Then, when Kili came sprinting into the clearing behind them, bow at the ready and blocking their retreat, they began to look guilty.

"Gurthon, Ulunnor. You were banished from this kingdom not two months ago. Why do you return, when you know full well the threat that was placed above your head?" said Tauriel coldly.

Neither elf made a sound, but one of them cast a sneer at Kili, who glared back and tightened his bowstring.

"Consider yourselves lucky; I will not turn you in this time, but the next time you are seen in this forest you know what the consequences will be," Tauriel declared, "And if you are here with ill intentions, know that I will not hesitate to shoot on sight. The path to Dale is that way, now get out and do not come back."

The pair of elves did not need to be told twice. As soon as Taurel pointed them in the right direction they were gone, leaving Kili and Tauriel alone in the clearing.

"What was that all about?" exclaimed Kili, wide eyed, "Who were they?"

"Some elves you definitely don't want to know," replied Tauriel. "They and a few others were cast out by my King for being too outspoken about dwarves."

"Isn't exile a bit harsh? I don't think Uncle would banish someone for speaking up against elves, though I would certainly give them a piece of my mind," pondered Kili.

"It is not the best punishment, in my opinion," Tauriel conceded, "I would lock them in prison for the rest of their lives so they could not spread their twisted ideas. They don't just want to cut all connections with dwarves, they want outright war with the Mountain, which is why they had to be stopped."

Kili shuddered. "That's not something I ever want to worry about again."

"I know," agreed Tauriel, "But if they have any sense they will not bother anyone again. We are close to the others now; shall we return?"

Kili nodded, and together they made their way back to the large clearing.

* * *

><p>Dwalin stood at the east gates of Erebor, watching the black specks against the still blue and white sky draw ever closer. Summer was at it's height, and the light lingered long in these days, but the sun now shone from the west and cast the eastern side of the mountain into shadow. Dwalin wondered if they were from Laketown or Mirkwood; they came from beyond Dale, that much he could see from their position in the southern sky, but other than that it was impossible to tell. There were not many, so it was probably only one that brought a message. Though what message that could be he did not know - ravens were rarely used between kingdoms, due to the possibility of misinterpretations of the ravens's speech, and the fact that only a handful of dwarves in the mountain knew a letter of Elvish. There were only a small number of dwarves away from the mountain at the moment, including Dwalin's spy, who he wasn't sure even knew how to write.<p>

The spy he had sent to follow the elf was, to be honest, not one of the best, but unfortunately he had been the only one Dwalin could find in time before it would be too late to track the elf at all. The head of Erebor's guard just hoped that he did his job. Though, it wouldn't be the first time that particular dwarf got caught at work - twice previously he had been caught by Legolas when the Elven Prince visited the Mountain, and luckily both times he had managed to worm his way out of causing a war, though Dwalin thought that was probably more to do with Legolas' saint-like tolerance than the spy's abilities. That pointy-eared brat was remarkably patient when diplomacy demanded it.

Suddenly, Dwalin spotted a man riding swiftly towards the main gate where he stood, coming from Dale apparently. He had not heard that any men would be coming, though he knew Fili was there for some official thing or other. Had something gone wrong? Was the crown prince all right?

He did not have long to wait, because the man was riding swiftly up the smooth stone road. He drew level with the gate and descended from his horse, approaching Dwalin with a smile.

"Greetings! I am here to deliver the planned street map of Dale to Prince Fili, as he requested, so that the amount of stone delivered can be judged accordingly."

Dwalin scowled. "The crown prince is not back yet. He is staying in Dale, and will return this evening at the very earliest."

"But he left this morning," frowned the man. "He told me to bring the map as soon as it was ready, and deliver it straight to him."

"Why did he not wait in Dale and collect it himself?" asked Dwalin suspiciously.

"The architect wasn't going to finish until late this evening, but then the schedule was switched and this was finished earlier," explained the messenger, holding up a piece of parchment.

"Well, as I said before, Prince Fili has not returned yet, nor was he meant to, so you have clearly been misinformed. However, since you are here and have bothered to come all this way, I will take this map and give it to him as soon as he arrives."

"Thank you," smiled the man, handing over the neatly folded parchment to the head of Erebor's guard, who continued to scowl after him even as he rode away.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Dwalin turned and was about to hurry inside to tell his King the news when the ravens arrived. They flew around his head, squawking, until he stretched out his thick arm and allowed one to land on his hand. It had a small piece of folded paper in its beak which was impeding its speech, however when he tried to take it away, it jerked its head out of reach sharply.

"Well at least tell me who the letter is for!" he snarled, losing his patience with the wretched birds.

"For Fili! For Fili!" cawed the rest of the ravens, and the one on his hand nodded its head in agreement.

"He's not here. Go to Dale," Dwalin told them sternly, and as if they had been expecting this answer, the small flock of ravens lifted off into the air and flew away. "I hope," added Dwalin quietly, before making his way swiftly to the throne room where Thorin would most likely be found.

* * *

><p><em>Firstly, you DO NOT need to remember all those names! Only a few of them will have any real part in the story, and those will become apparent in time. As characters I have invented become significant I will keep on reminding you of who they are, but for now here are a few that will make more future appearances:<em>

_- Amras: Tauriel's second-in-command. He was in Only Spiders for Company, and he wasn't all that nice to begin with but since then he has warmed up to dwarves and has become a genuinely nice person._

_- Cellissel: a young member of the guard, who is stealthy when necessary but otherwise very outspoken and confident, as she would have to be to become a guard at such a young age. Part of the inspiration for her character is Johanna Mason from the Hunger Games. Tell me how you think I do!_

_- Âlof: a female dwarf of about 60 years of age, tagging along as a mentor for the dwarf cadets. In this chapter she was a bit annoying, in a typical girly sort of way, but her character will be more developed by the end, even if she retains a few irritating traits (the characters can't all be perfect, guys!)_

_The very short summary of the important bits in the chapter is this: Tauriel meets Fili and Kili and they go to the outpost and meet the characters mentioned above. Kili plans to accompany Fili home because he worries about the road being dangerous but he realises this means Thorin will learn about the outpost and Thorin still isn't comfortable with the relations with elves. Tauriel and Kili also catch two exiled elves in the forest and send them away. Dwalin has sent a spy to follow Arradon the suspicious elf, and he recieves a messenger from Dale saying that Fili has left but has not arrived at Erebor, and a raven with a letter for Fili which he sends on to Dale._

_I think that's it from me this chapter! Please drop a tasty review for this hungry author! You will be rewarded with showers of imaginary flowers and a very happy Booksnake :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_It's a short chapter today guys, because last chapter was so long, but I hope that you enjoy it nevertheless :)_

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><p>Legolas was in his chamber when he heard an official sounding knock at the door. He quickly kicked his dirt-covered garments from earlier underneath his bed before going to answer it.<p>

A servant who Legolas recognised as being new stood at the door, attempting a pleasant smile but achieving more of a nervous grimace. It was nothing the prince hadn't seen before in elves new to their job. They usually got over it within the first week.

"My Prince, the King requests to see you," the servant said, giving an awkward bow.

"Thank you," replied Legolas with his friendliest smile. He usually found this the best method of putting them at ease. The servant hesitated for a moment, then hurried off down the corridor. Legolas sighed. It would take a while with this one, he feared.

Double checking in the round silver mirror in the corner of his room that he looked roughly presentable, Legolas carefully locked the door behind himself and made his way down to the main hall. If his father wasn't there, at least someone could tell him where to look. It was a shame the servant hadn't thought to tell him. A side-effect of nerves, he supposed.

The great hall was emptier than usual, and the noise level was hushed, immediately putting Legolas on edge. As he descended the smooth stone steps he caught a glimpse of his father to his left, standing silently with a stony countenance. At almost the same moment, the Elvenking noticed him, and beckoned him over with a gesture. Legolas hesitated, a feeling of foreboding settling in his stomach, but he dared not disobey.

"Father," Legolas greeted respectfully, bowing his head as he drew level.

"I am aware I dismissed you abruptly earlier today," began Thranduil, starting to pace with Legolas at his side. "Forgive me. It is of that which I wish to talk now - the messenger from Laketown - as the matter has been pressing on my mind and I have at last made my decision."

"And what is that, father?" asked the prince, curiously.

"I do not trust him," the Elvenking turned sharply to look at his son, his cold blue eyes piercing. "It would be well to learn his true intentions before promising anything that may fall into corrupt hands. This morning he all but demanded gold, seeming to think that insulting the dwarven race and claiming that they have been greedy and cruel he would bend me to his cause. Clearly these men have much to learn in the ways of alliances."

"I thought you made that point when you exiled those campaigners," said Legolas with a wry smile.

"I did," agreed Thranduil, "But that brings me to the point that there is much disagreement within our kingdom on the matter of other races. No matter what I think, I must choose a course and keep to it, or discord will reign. But you are certain of your loyalties, are you not?"

"I am," replied Legolas firmly.

"It is as I thought. I would not entrust this task to anyone else, though it unsettles me to send you alone,"

"Whatever it is, I am sure I am capable, father,"

"Good. Then I would like you to go to Laketown in the pretence of considering their plea, and discover what this is all about. Find out as much as you can about their leaders, and watch closely how the people are treated. I suspect there is something more to this than a need for treasure. Do you understand?"

"Yes, father. If it is anything like it used to be, then there is almost certainly a plot for riches being carried out."

"I am glad you are of the same mind, my son. I will send one guard with you, but any more will be suspicious. You will have to do most of the investigation work alone."

"I will find out whatever I can," promised Legolas. "When do I leave?"

"Not tonight, it is too late to depart now," said the Elvenking. "Depart at first light on the morrow, if you can be ready by then."

"As you wish, father, but would it not be better to depart later, so that I may be certain of a night to investigate?" suggested the prince.

"If a night is what you need, then so be it," replied Thranduil, "will noon give you time enough?"

"I think so," said Legolas, "It should not take long on horseback. The ride to Erebor is much longer and that can be done in a single day."

"Then you shall depart at noon," declared Thranduil, "I shall send word to whoever is in charge of the guard while Tauriel is away - a shame, she would be trustworthy enough for this mission. Never mind, another guard will be satisfactory for the purposes of your safety, but you must not tell them of your true purpose, understood? To them, this will be a diplomatic visit only."

"I understand, father. This stays between us," said Legolas, even as his heart sank. Carrying out a purpose with no backup whatsoever was never easy, he knew.

Thranduil smiled. "I know you will keep this quiet and fulfil your mission. You may go and prepare now."

"Thank you, father," Legolas bowed his head once again and walked swiftly out of the great hall and down a different passageway to the one he had entered by. If he was going to Laketown tomorrow, some extra archery practise definitely wouldn't hurt.

* * *

><p>The night was already dark when Kili finally made his way through the cool wooden passageways of the outpost towards where he and Fili would share a cramped little bedroom. In actual fact, it had been planned that he and Amras would share the room, but due to Fili's unexpected appearance the Elf had generously offered to sleep outside in a tree - something which Kili would never understand how anyone could do, but apparently elves did not need as much sleep as other races.<p>

He didn't bother to knock before pushing open the creaky wooden door (it was only creaky because elves fashioned it - a five-year-old dwarf could have done a better job) and found his brother already lying on one excessively long but uncomfortably narrow bed, face down in the covers. At the sound of the door being closed again, however, the golden head turned to the side so that words would not be muffled in the covers.

"You were a while."

"Tauriel showed me the tree-houses," explained Kili briefly, shoving his boots underneath the other bed before collapsing into it with a huge yawn.

"Do you still insist on accompanying me home in the morning?" asked Fili with a hint of prolonged exasperation.

"Mmm-hmm."

Kili heard a long-suffering sigh, and smirked into the darkness. "You're going to have to explain that lovely black eye you got yourself to our dear uncle Thorin; do you really want to endure the rage for this outpost on top of that?"

"So you're being a selfless martyr doing this, are you?" Fili replied bemusedly.

"I can stay here and let you take the blame instead," suggested Kili nonchalantly, knowing this would achieve the desired effect.

"Er...no thanks," said Fili quickly. "You know full well that I had nothing to do with this."

"And you know full well that if uncle gets angry enough that fact won't save you," Kili smirked, "So are you going to ask me nicely to give myself up and save you from a gruesome death?"

"That's still not why you're coming," pointed out Fili grumpily.

"Of course not, and if I had a scrap of self preservation I would be staying right here, thank you very much, but unfortunately, I care too much for my idiot brother who got ambushed on the road on the way here but has not learned from his mistakes so needs someone to escort him home. Risking murder by our own uncle is just a side effect, but it is a fact nonetheless that I am doing it, so are you going to be grateful or not?"

Fili sighed heavily. "I can't help feeling that I'm getting you into a load of trouble by letting you do this."

"It's inevitable, brother. And the longer I wait, the worse it'll be. Best get it over and done with, and if I die in the process I leave everything to you."

"Oh, stop exaggerating Kee, you know Uncle would never kill either of us without mother's permission. If the worst comes to the worst you can hide among the elves for a century or two until I inherit the throne."

"Doesn't sound too bad, actually. Mind if I start now?"

"Brother, I promise I will not let Uncle lay a finger on you. Is that good enough?"

"Hmm...ask me nicely to come with you."

"Dearest brother, you are so selfless and noble, won't you please escort me to our home then explain your misdeeds to our uncle-king so that I may not carry the blame for them?"

"...good enough. All right, I'll come. But only because you asked me to."

"What's the worst that could happen anyway?" Fili rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "He needs us to do our duties, so he can't throw us in prison or anything. Plus, that would make him look bad."

Kili did not answer, knowing full well what would be his worst punishment, and also knowing that it was quite possible.

Fili's eyes widened in the dark as he caught up with his brother's train of thought. "Oh...I see. Confinement within the mountain?"

Kili's silence confirmed this idea.

Fili took a long time before speaking again. Kili knew he was giving him time to pretend to be asleep.

"You know, you achieved this whole...outpost thing, on your own, just by bending a few rules. So...if you love her, you shouldn't waste any years. We don't have eternity like them. If you really wanted to, you'd be able to do it, I know you would. Anyway, your choice, I just want you to be happy," Fili finished with a yawn and turned so his head was buried deep in the covers.

Kili didn't answer, but his brother's words haunted his dreams for the rest of the night.

* * *

><p><em>Reviews, anyone?<em>

_There's a question that has haunted me for a while that I wonder if any of you know, to do with story stats. You know when it brings up a bar chart of views and visitors to a particular story? Well, what's the difference between views and visitors? Because there doesn't seem to be any guide on what each thing means. I guess one must be people who've clicked on the summary and at least started reading, but does that count as a view or a visit, and what does the other one measure?_

_The next chapter should be up within the week, and I bought my ticket for "3d Hobbit: Tbotfa" (that's exactly what it says on the cinema website) today! Who is as excited as I am? :D_


	5. Chapter 5

_The next chapter is here! I'm sorry it's taken a little longer than I hoped but there is a simple reason and for once it's not (entirely) school work. I've been knitting - yes, knitting - a scarf, which is my attempt at a replica of Ori's scarf (you know, the grey one with brown edges) and I want it finished before the 12th so I can wear it to BotFA! Good news is, it's 3/4 done apart from the edges, so fingers crossed I'll have it finished in time._

_Enjoy the chapter!_

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><p>The next morning saw all nineteen cadets plus their two mentors up bright and early - or perhaps the elves and dwarves just wanted to get out of the small dorms they had to share and as far away from each other as possible, as soon as possible.<p>

"Never, _never_ make me do that again," groaned Âlof as she stumbled out into the bright and cold sunlight, blinking and rubbing her eyes, "You boys think you had it bad? I had to put up with a dorm of elves _all by myself_, and I was supposed to be in charge, but it turns out they're all older than me anyway," she trailed off into a long string of muttered insults.

"It seems a level of tolerance has been reached at least somewhere," Tauriel commented to Kili, nodding over to where an elf and a dwarf could be seen tossing a stone between them. The stone suddenly came flying their way, having been bounced hard off the dwarfling's skull. "Or not," she added.

"That's Gjûki," said Kili, indicating the dwarfling who was now carrying out full retribution by flicking sticks hard and fast at the now defenceless elf, "I thought he had a good aim yesterday; I'd like to try him out with a bow at some point, if he agrees."

"That'll take a bit of persuading," remarked Fili, strolling out at that moment, stretching in the sunlight, "As far as I know, not a single cadet in Erebor learns archery as their primary weapon - though that'll change as more people arrive I expect, the mountain's still a bit empty at the moment."

"Are you ready?" asked Kili, his pack already slung over his shoulders.

"Yes, I made sure to bring all the things you left lying about," replied Fili with a smirk, "Honestly, if you call that packing it's a wonder you ever have the things you need when you go anywhere."

"I figured you'd pick them up," Kili smiled with a wink.

"You're never going to learn independence, are you?" Fili rolled his eyes, "Come on then, let's go."

They said their brief farewells to everyone at the outpost then made their way at a brisk walk to the edge of the forest and onto the road leading eastward. Though the sun was shining brightly, the air was still crisp and the ground was still wet from overnight rain. The fresh morning breeze was enough to lift their spirits, and they whiled away a good couple of hours making jokes at the elves' expense.

About a quarter of the way along the road, they stopped to have some breakfast, which was some tasteless waybread which Fili had picked up in Dale the morning before, Kili not having remembered to pack any elvish food, which was much more nourishing, or in fact bring any dwarvish food from Erebor in the first place. The cadets were still living off snacks their parents had donated before they set off.

Inevitably, the crumbs dropped by the dwarves attracted a multitude of birds from the forest, and after a short while some ravens roosting in Dale noticed the commotion and decided to investigate the possibility of food. When they saw who was walking away from the scene chatting cheerfully, however, they changed their course of flight to the Mountain, for they knew that the dwarves there had asked for news of the blond one. They also knew there was a message waiting for him, which the poor raven who had carried it overnight was still guarding and would be glad to be rid of.

It was Kili who noticed the ravens first, pointing them out to Fili as they swooped almost directly overhead. The blond haired prince lifted his arm and sure enough a large black bird landed on it within seconds, causing him to stumble a little when its momentum caught him off guard.

"Why is the flock turning round?" asked Fili, knowing the best way not to lose a raven's attention was to get to the point (and offer them food if you had any, but unfortunately they had eaten all of theirs).

"Tell mountain princes safe, princes return!" cawed the raven.

"They knew I wasn't in Dale?" Fili exclaimed, though he knew there had been many flaws in his plan, bandits on the road being just one of them.

"Dale man come to Mountain," explained the raven, "Late, dark, dwarves search in light."

"So there are people out looking for me?" Fili exchanged a look with Kili. Causing Thorin worry would not make their return any easier.

"In Dale, on road," replied the raven hoarsely, bobbing up and down, eager to rejoin its fellows who were already retreating back towards the great silhouette on the horizon which was the Lonely Mountain.

"All right, just before you go, is there anything else I should know?" asked Fili quickly.

"Letter from elves," the great black bird squawked, "Read at mountain."

"Thank you," said Fili, preparing to give the bird a boost into the air, "I will look out for that."

As the raven became a shrinking black dot against a blue and white sky, the brothers turned to each other wordlessly. Though the raven had only brought them a grand total of two new pieces of information, there was plenty to think about until they got to Erebor - or perhaps until they ran into someone searching for them, which was now likely. This wasn't getting any easier.

* * *

><p>When the sun was almost at its peak, three elves and two horses stood by the forest river going over last minute briefings, the two tallest often exchanging silent looks of meaning. At last the gathering came to an end and the most regal turned tail back to his kingdom, whilst his son and the guard alongside him mounted their horses and galloped away along the banks, not exchanging another word.<p>

In time they came to the edge of the trees, where the long lake could be seen right to the far end, and behind and to the north, the mountain that had been a home to a dragon for a good part of Legolas's lifetime. Now, at last, it was restored to a people who would bring peace and prosperity to the lands around, and if they were unnaturally short, hairy and ill-mannered, then so be it; they were allies. That was the Elvenking's stance. To the prince, however, they were also friends - well, a couple of them anyway, and the rest he tolerated if they put up with him in return. And if the Lake men saw fit to insult and rebuke them, then they were not worthy of Eryn Lasgalen's aid.

"This way," he told Brúthor the guard, leading his horse around the edge of the trees so that they faced the stretch of land east of the Long Lake and west of Mirkwood. "It is safer near the forest, though I doubt any vagabonds would attempt to attack us in daylight."

"If they did, they'd be dead before they could blink," replied Brúthor matter-of-factly, and Legolas had to agree. Brúthor was the most concise elf, in words and in combat, that he had ever met.

They rode in silence for a long while, until the lake was close enough to see the ripples dancing across the glassy stretch of water and the rough patches where the wind grazed the surface and turned it into a dark turmoil.

"Sailing boats..." Legolas murmured vaguely as he regarded it.

"What - I mean, pardon, my prince?"

"The lake would look nice with sailing boats on it, would it not?" the son of Thranduil turned to his guard, "I mean, rowing boats are practical, especially for the level of craftsmanship of the Lake men, but there is something indescribably elegant about sailing boats which would make any lake look beautiful. I have always wanted to go on one..." he trailed off again, deep in thought.

"Head in the clouds at every opportunity," Brúthor chuckled, "Perhaps you've spent too much time in Lothlórien."

"The clouds are a bit like sailing boats, aren't they?" Legolas continued to muse, "Or perhaps horses; the noble steeds of Manwë."

"You should take up poetry," advised Brúthor with an amused smile as he noted the faraway expression on his prince's face.

"I do not think it would suit me," said Legolas, his mind returning from its wanderings, "Though I would like to visit Lothlórien again one of these days; it has been many a year since I looked last upon that fair land."

"And it's been a while since we stopped, which means we're wasting time my prince," pointed out the guard, practical as ever, "Which way do we go next?"

"From what I have heard, the new settlement is at the south end of the Lake, far from where the dragon fell. We will go southward," replied Legolas, turning his horse and leading away.

* * *

><p>Thorin watched his two nephews quail under his gaze and felt bitterness tearing at his heart. Since when had they been scared of him? Was it not even four months ago, when they celebrated the snowmelt and the coming of spring, that the pair had been closer to him than ever before, allowing him in on their jokes and treating him like an uncle, not a king? That was all he wanted, and he wished he could have it back - he did not want this. Never again this. The last time they had looked upon him with fear was during the dragon-sickness which had almost led to their deaths - or so it seemed in Thorin's mind, though admittedly he would blame himself if anything at all happened to them whether it was his fault or not.<p>

That was why he was angry now, not because Fili had been uncharacteristically reckless, or because Kili had completely failed to tell him anything on his extensive correspondence with elves, leading to a new training outpost for the joint use of both races - well, to tell the truth, he was worried in Fili's case and more than annoyed in Kili's, but that was not what set him on edge the most - no, it was the fact that despite his best efforts, and the efforts of Dwalin and the guard, these lands were still not safe for even the best warriors travelling alone, and the fact that despite his excruciatingly painful efforts to tolerate an alliance with Thranduil, neither brother had trusted him enough to tell him about the new scheme, which hurt more than he would ever admit.

But unfortunately, his nature was not one easily able to back down when making a point, and the role of King enforced the need to deal out judgement, so if it would help his nephews learn their lesson and increase their safety then a smooth relationship was a small price to pay, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

He barely heard the words coming out of his own mouth, but he registered the look of hurt on Fili's face, the betrayal on Kili's, which swiftly turned to defiance and determination as he learned of his own punishment.

"And may that be a lesson to both of you. I am very disappointed indeed."

Was he disappointed, really? In himself, yes. He had always been disappointed in himself, ever since the untimely departure of his ego - namely, Frerin - who had always managed to lift him out of the darkest of times, make him believe that there was a better future, tell him sternly that he couldn't be expected to carry the world on his shoulders but promising that if he did, they would share it together and then it wouldn't be so heavy... But disappointed in the boys? Never. They had done nothing but make him proud ever since their first words, and if he did not tell them often enough, then that was just another failing on his part.

Perhaps he could make it up to Fili, at least, while the older prince was confined to Erebor for the next two weeks as punishment - a lesson not to go wandering off alone. Kili would be harder, not because he was more prone to holding grudges, but because the younger prince would most likely be worked off his feet for the next fortnight in his task taking over most of Fili's duties on top of his own - a lesson not to go gallivanting off with elves and calling it work. That would probably have to wait until after the two weeks were over. It was not too bad, he told himself. There were certainly worse punishments, and he could work on rebuilding his relationship with the boys once it was over. Everything would be fixed by the time Dís arrived at the end of summer.

She was going to be proud beyond measure when she saw how her precious sons had grown. Sad too, perhaps, but proud. Thorin watched the blond and the brunet disappear out of the hall and wondered what it would have been like had the quest not happened. Would they still both be the innocent and teasing tricksters he remembered, immature with no idea of the hardships further afield than the small woodland down the mountainside near their home in Ered Luin? In that sense, he was glad they had come this far, faced so many perils and stood their ground, proving their worth amongst the highest ranks of warrior. In another sense, he was sorry to lose that childish spark that had lingered at the corner of Kili's eye - he glimpsed it now and again, but then it was lost all too quickly - and he missed the way that Fili was always the first to laugh. It made him sad, but it also made him all the more determined to keep them safe from further harm; he had taken enough away from them already.

Yes, that what mattered most. For now, at least, it didn't matter what they thought of him as long as they were safe.

* * *

><p>"Kili, where are you going?"<p>

The younger Durin stopped dead in his tracks in the narrow and dark passageway leading down to a recently cleared secret exit near the main gate which, so far, only a few dwarves knew about. He turned slowly to face Fili, feeling guilty but also slightly relieved that it was only his brother who had caught him. At least Fili would not report him to Thorin.

"You're going back to Mirkwood aren't you?" said Fili accusatorially, folding his arms across his chest.

"Please, Fili, I must," Kili said imploringly, "I can't abandon the cadets like that; Âlof is having a tough enough time already what with the elves, she doesn't need Dwalin storming in with no warning on top of that."

Fili sighed. "I'm going to see little enough of you as it is for the next two weeks, you could at least try to stay longer than a day in my company without running off."

"You know I don't like it any more than you do," insisted Kili, "I'll be back by the morning, I promise; I'm taking a pony. No one else even needs to know I'm gone."

"This sounds familiar," said Fili with a wry, humourless smile. "Remind me, who was it yesterday who said it was stupid to go riding off alone to Mirkwood?"

Kili let out a huff of exasperation. "I'll be back by tomorrow morning, I promise."

"That's also what I told myself. And I was riding in daylight. The roads are ten times worse at night, you know that."

"Please, Fili," the younger Durin begged.

"Dwalin will go to Mirkwood in the morning with several guards, and they will bring the cadets back to Erebor safely. There is nothing you need to do," Fili stated firmly.

"No, I need to do this," argued Kili desperately, "I can't just...just..."

"Just not see Tauriel again for two weeks without saying goodbye?" Fili raised an eyebrow.

Kili sighed heavily, not meeting his brother's eyes. "Yes, there's that. But also to give them a little warning, and to assure them we're all right. Otherwise there could easily be a misunderstanding."

"It's not worth it, Kili! You plan on disregarding your safety just to prevent the minuscule chance of a small misunderstanding which would be of no consequence anyway? Please, just stay here. It's not your business any more."

"Of course it's my business!" snapped Kili, "I started this whole thing, remember? This is all my fault! The only elf who knows I did this against orders is Tauriel, and even she might not be able to make peace with Dwalin -"

"Have a little more faith in her, brother. And Legolas also knows -"

"But he's not there, is he? And the other elves aren't likely to help, they'll all be too scared of Dwalin. I have to make this right, please understand Fili, I feel so responsible, for all of this. Just let me go."

"You're not going to give in, are you?" asked Fili, recognising the steely glint in Kili's dark brown eyes.

"No," replied Kili bluntly.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Fili cast his gaze away, sagging in defeat. "I guess I'll just find Ori and see if he can decode that message, then," he mumbled, turning and walking quickly away.

Kili watched him go with a pang of guilt. This was the closest they had got to an argument in...well, years, probably, and he hated it. Still, there was nothing he could do now short of running after Fili, begging for forgiveness and promising not to go to Mirkwood, and he would not do that - not when he was so determined to follow this through. It was early afternoon, which meant he could set up his cover and sneak out of Erebor on a pony with all the things he needed in just over an hour, get to Mirkwood by the evening and even get two or three hours of sleep before needing to head back home. That was his plan.

Fortunately, the new wooden stables at the foot of the mountain were for the most part unguarded; a lone young dwarf, no more than twenty years old, sat outside lazily smoking a pipe. Kili doubted the lad would question him or even take any notice of him if he walked straight inside and took a pony. The trick was looking confident, he knew; years of trying to sneak around his mother and uncle and finding himself caught for looking suspicious had taught the prince that lesson. Look as if you know what you're doing, and no one will question you. If you have to lie, keep it simple and believe it yourself.

But then there was the issue of getting into the stable - no doubt the young lad had the keys so he could monitor the people coming in and out. Perhaps there was another way...

"Aren't you a bit young to be smoking?" Kili approached the lad, raising an eyebrow of disapproval.

The dwarfling went red, too late removing the pipe from between his teeth and stuffing it in his pocket.

"That's still lit, believe me, you don't want to do that," smirked the older dwarf, causing the poor lad to go redder and quickly take the pipe back out, placing it on the bench beside him.

"Do you want to borrow a pony?" The dwarfling quickly regained his confidence and stood up, already rummaging in his pocket for the keys.

"Yes, please," said Kili, glad that (miraculously) this dwarf had not recognised him as a prince. "What is your name?"

"Svîur," replied the dwarfling, swiftly unlocking the stable door and leading Kili inside. It smelled very like ponies in the wood-enclosed space, and it took the dark-haired archer several forced breaths to get used to it. Once his nose had adapted, he took a good look around at all the ponies to see which one looked the most reliable.

Erebor didn't own ponies in its own right; most dwarves had very little cause for venturing out of the mountain at all, and the ones who did most - Kili and Fili, for instance - generally preferred to walk. Still, it was useful to keep some around for quicker or more laden journeys, and for pulling carts of goods and suchlike, and so Dale allowed some of its ponies to rest in Erebor after taking up wagons of food supplies and in this way the Mountain always had ponies available on a rotating but constant basis.

"How about this one?" Kili asked Svîur, pointing to a dappled grey pony that looked steady and obedient.

"That'll cost you eleven silver coins," said the lad smartly.

Kili frowned. "The last time I checked it didn't cost anything to hire a pony."

"It doesn't, but you have lots of money and I have the keys," said Svîur, stuffing his hands in his pockets, shrugging.

The prince regarded the youth for a few moments, several new doubts in the back of his mind. There was something about his shabby look and almost desperate expression that made Kili wonder how well he was being looked after.

"What do you need money for?" he asked cautiously.

"What don't you need money for?" Svîur shot back immediately with a glare.

"Then why don't you get an honest job?" suggested Kili, and then a thought struck him. "Why aren't you in lessons right now? Why are you out here, ransoming ponies?"

"Don't go to lessons," mumbled the dwarfling, shuffling his feet.

Kili frowned. "Why not? I thought it was the law for lads your age to be in at least some kind of education."

"Not allowed," Svîur mumbled even quieter, though Kili just about heard it.

A moment passed, and then another, and still Svîur didn't expand on his explanation. The prince didn't like how he had become sullen and shut off, and though he would have liked to know more, he felt it was time to change the topic.

"Doesn't your father or mother earn money?" he asked, then winced as he realised this wasn't really a topic change.

Not surprisingly, it had the exact opposite effect that he had been going for; the dwarfling suddenly seemed to shrink in on himself, eyes narrowed and expression hostile. "It's none of your business what my father does," he muttered, suddenly looking away and swallowing hard. "Here, just have the pony and leave me alone."

He produced the keys from his pocket and slid open the lock to the stall, leading the dappled grey pony out without once looking back at Kili. He slung a saddle over it and didn't even bother to do up the fastenings before shoving it in the prince's general direction.

Kili finished saddling the pony with practised ease, then led it out of the stable and into the fresh air, which was a welcome relief on the nose. Svîur slunk out after him, slouching back onto the bench and picking up the pipe once again.

"You should take the money," said Kili quickly, plunging his hand into his own pocket and holding out eight gold coins for the the lad.

Svîur's eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw what Kili was offering and he stood up so fast that the pipe clattered to the ground, forgotten, but he didn't refuse, taking the coins with a reverence and staring up at the prince in awe and gratefulness. He seemed lost for words.

"Thanks for the pony," Kili smiled, "and I'd be grateful if you didn't tell anyone you saw me go. If you're still here when I get back and you haven't told anyone, I'll give you another five coins. Deal?"

"Deal," Svîur found his voice and shook Kili's hand with a boyish grin, his eyes twinkling at the thought of breaking rules.

Satisfied that he would not be betrayed, Kili mounted the pony and dug his ankles into its sides. It lumbered steadily away, but with a little more encouragement it broke into an easy trot. Kili looked once back over his shoulder, and saw Svîur with the pipe hanging out of the corner of his mouth once more. The lad gave a wave, and Kili waved back, glad that he had been able to help him even if he had received fewer answers than he would have liked...perhaps the time for more questions would come when he returned, and perhaps then he would be more successful.

* * *

><p><em>So, what do you guys think? Is Thorin being fair? Will Kili reach Mirkwood safely and return in time? Is Svîur totally honest? (Well, clearly not)<em>

_I must admit, Svîur was a character who came out of nowhere, but he does have a role to play and even gets a back story in the end, so do keep tabs on him :)_

_If I don't update before Friday, please note that I will be an emotional wreck - but don't worry, the story will not change (it's already AU) and no spoilers will be given away._

_You know how much I love reviews...they really do keep me motivated and help me churn out these chapters faster. Drop one if you have time!_

_Fun question (just because): which dwarf in the company are you? Or if none fit exactly, which dwarves are you most like? I am Ori all the way (if your couldn't tell by the fact that I'm knitting his scarf) :)_


	6. Chapter 6

_I watched The Battle of the Five Armies yesterday and IT WAS AMAZING! Don't worry, no spoilers here though. I'm up for chatting about it though if you've seen it, or alternatively you can send me an incoherent mess of emotions and I will understand completely._

_Extra awesome shout-out this week to Kili the guest reviewer! You made my day :D_

_There's more plot movement in this chapter so here's a recap of some important stuff that's happened:_

_Right at the beginning Legolas picked up a letter dropped by a messenger from Laketown and, believing it to be written in dwarven runes, sent it to Fili who might understand it. At the moment, as punishment for disobeying Thorin, Fili is restricted to the mountain while Kili has to pick up all his brother's duties on top of his own, however Kili has sneaked back out to Mirkwood, planning to return by the morning. As he left, he met a dwarfling in the stables called Svîur who would not tell him anything about himself but asked for money. Meanwhile, Legolas and an elf from the guard, Brúthor, set off to Laketown in order to investigate the claims of poverty and request for assistance posed by the messenger. Previously, an elf also came to Thorin requesting assistance and gold on behalf of Laketown, which Thorin did not agree to and subsequently sent a spy after the elf to find out who he was really working for._

_I think I've covered everything there...enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

><p>Fili wandered through some of the less trodden passages in Erebor, hoping to Mahal that he had come the right way. He had a suspicion that he would find Ori in the library, but he himself had only visited it a few times and the labyrinth of tunnels leading to it were difficult to keep track of. He wondered if the design was purposeful to keep any absentminded dwarf away from the quietly studying scholars.<p>

Eventually he found the heavy wooden door, only to spend another five minutes figuring out how to undo the complicated set of bolts that held it shut. Once inside, his breath was immediately taken away. He barely noticed the door slam shut behind him, and the grating of metal as a mechanism slid the bolts on the other side back into place. He had been here before, but that did not diminish his wonder every time.

Bookcases of carven stone reached out of the floor in every direction and joined again with the arching ceiling, providing the pillars upon which many levels of Erebor rested. Ladders were carven into them at intervals, and now and again a small gap no more than five feet high and wide allowed a glimpse of the rows of bookshelves beyond. According to Balin, it was the largest hall in the Mountain to go untouched by the dragon, but to Fili it was less of a hall and more of a kingdom in its own right, where history and lore ruled as King and Queen. He could see how Ori would be in his element here.

With no idea where to start, Fili wandered forward until he reached the far end of one line of bookshelves. Once he got there, he took a guess and turned right, continuing through arches until he finally saw another person descending the last stone rungs of a ladder. It was a dwarf he didn't recognise, but he approached him anyway, in the hope that this dwarf would be able to tell him where he might find his friend.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes?" the grey haired dwarf turned to face him, then did a double take. "My deepest apologies, your majesty, what I meant to say was, Thekk son of Thegn at your service, your highness," he proclaimed, bowing so low that the tip of his beard swept across the smooth stone floor, "How may I help you?"

"I was wondering if you knew where I could find Ori?" said Fili, "I thought he might be in here somewhere."

"Indeed he is, indeed he is, your highness!" exclaimed Thekk, "This way, please, just follow me!"

With that, the grey haired dwarf strode off at a surprisingly swift pace, and Fili followed as fast as he could. They wound their way through so many archways and down so many rows of bookshelves that Fili wondered how under the Mountain Thekk managed to find his way. At last they rounded a corner, and there was Ori, sitting at a small wooden desk and poring over a thick, aged book. He looked up at the sound of footsteps, and broke into a smile when he saw Fili approaching.

Fili thanked Thekk for leading him to the right place (which he would never have been able to find on his own) then greeted Ori, who was excited as soon as Fili mentioned a coded letter.

"Who is it from?" the scribe asked, wide eyed, as Fili fished the parchment out of his pocket.

"It came from Mirkwood. I'm guessing Legolas sent it, from what the raven could tell me. He couldn't have written it, though, since it uses dwarvish cirth lettering, even if it doesn't make any sense. I was wondering whether it could be a code?"

"More likely a cypher," replied Ori, taking the parchment, "I know a dwarf who could crack it in no time, if you would allow him to see the letter."

"I would rather this stays between us, if you don't mind," said Fili, "Just until we know what it says. Do you think you can do it?"

"It will take a while," Ori admitted, "I can't tell how long. But yes, I think I'll be able to. I'll start on it right away, and come and find you when it's done."

"Thank you Ori," said Fili gratefully, "But before you start, please could you show me the way out of here?"

The scribe suddenly broke into a grin more often seen on his errant brother's face. "Of course, I always forget how people can never find me here. They all have to take the long way round. If I show you the secret passageway I use, will you promise not to tell anyone? Not Dori, not Nori - in fact, especially not those two - not even Kili?"

Fili shifted uncomfortably, not eager to keep a secret from his brother. But for the amount that Kili used the library...in fact, Fili doubted if his brother had ever visited this labyrinth of a room...it wouldn't matter if the topic was never broached, and chances were Kili would never need to use that information so whether he knew of a secret passage or not did not really make any difference.

"I promise I won't tell anyone," replied Fili, "not even my brother."

"That makes things easier then," smiled Ori, "I wasn't expecting you to say that. This way!"

Fili was led a short way between rows of books and into a section of the library where books were replaced by stone tablets on which runes were cleanly chiseled. When Ori caught the prince staring at them, he nodded knowledgeably.

"Those are the oldest records here. Paper books were actually an elvish invention, so naturally it took a while for them to catch on."

They walked to the end of the row, until Ori stopped and removed the last stone tablet in the shelf. On one side it had carven runes, but on the reverse side there was a strange square pattern. Ori moved towards the wall at the end of the row and ran his fingers along it until he found a small notch in the otherwise flawless stone. He orientated the tablet, with the top left corner on the notch, and pressed it into the stone. To Fili's amazement, the tablet slid into place like a jigsaw piece, and when Ori turned it ninety degrees a crack appeared in the stone around in the shape of a door. A moment later, with some encouragement from Ori's boot, the door swung open and revealed a dark passageway behind.

"Just hold that open a moment," said the scribe, and Fili obliged while Ori placed the tablet back at the end of the bookshelf. He came back, and pointed down the pitch black passageway. "The end of this tunnel comes out on the floor near the jewel smiths' workshops, and it's usually pretty quiet down there so you don't need to worry about being seen. Just follow it all the way - I know it's dark, but you don't mind that, do you? When you get to the end, the door opens inwards and you need to find the bolt which unlocks all seven, which is the second one from the bottom. I...I think that's all," Ori suddenly looked slightly unsure, "Perhaps I should come with you -"

"No, don't bother, I'm sure I'll be fine," Fili reassured him, "It seems simple enough. Follow the dark corridor to the end, use the second bolt from the bottom, and end up in the jewel smiths' passages."

"That's right," said Ori, "Oh, and about half way along, watch out for three descending stairs. I've tripped over those too many times to count."

"Right - thanks," said Fili, "Let me know when you crack that code."

"Cypher," corrected Ori automatically, then smiled. "Yes, I will."

* * *

><p>Legolas and Brúthor reached the new Esgaroth just as evening was making itself known. The air was cool, which was a blessing, for on a hotter day many flies would swarm around the edge of the lake and provide any warm-blooded creature with bites that took weeks to heal. As they neared the rickety, poorly constructed wooden dwellings, however, discomfort took another form. A smell, like rotting vegetable matter mixed with animal dung, reached their noses, and as Brúthor pointed to the lake on one side, Legolas saw that the water around here was a of putrid brown colour which had nothing to do with the waning light. Clearly, the folk of Esgaroth had yet to perfect their waste disposal methods.<p>

Ignoring the assault on their sense of smell, the two elves rode further into the town of men; past many houses, each as run-down as the last, as if they had been built many years ago and collapsed over time, not as if they had been constructed within the year. Not many people lingered outside, but the ones who did - an old woman twisting a mangle, a scruffy young lad grooming a skeletal pony, a lean man in a threadbare coat smoking a pipe - all looked in need of a good meal and some decent clothes. Legolas took note of this; it would be interesting now to see how well the Master was being treated, if his subjects lacked so much.

The further they rode towards the centre, the more people were about, and the more stares they received. At one point, several children chose to run after their horses until they were stopped by their mothers, and another time a young adolescent chose to swear loudly at them, though it wasn't clear why. The houses too became progressively bigger and better built, as if these ones had been planned in the original design of the town but the planning had not extended to the outskirts. Still, there had been no sign of wealth or even a decent standard of living as yet.

"Brúthor, why do these people stay here?" asked Legolas quietly as the din of the market square rose in a crescendo, "They could be prosperous in Dale; King Bard turns no one away."

"Perhaps this feels more like home," replied Brúthor pensively, "It is closer, and more similar to what Laketown used to be. It is in some people's nature to counteract change at every opportunity."

Suddenly they got to the end of the road, and there in front of them was the town centre: a large square which today had stalls of all colours and sizes lined up around the edges. The two elves dismounted from their horses to cross it, for they had both spotted the house on the far side: the grandest house they had seen by far, several storeys high and probably extending below into a basement as well. This one was in no danger of falling down, since for the most part it was made of stone, whereas all other houses here seemed to be made of wood, and to the side there was a stable from which the whinnies of several horses and ponies could be heard.

Making their way through the crowd of people was like wading against the current of a fast-flowing river. The approaching evening seemed not to dwindle the sea of men and women. Several times the two elves lost each other, and only managed to regroup due to their height advantage over the men and being able to see each other's horse. At one point they were pressed to the edge of the crowd and nearly stepped into a stall selling various suspicious looking types of meat. The smell, which was rancid, was almost overpowering and made Brúthor's horse very unrestful, so the elves fought their way out of that area as soon as possible.

At long last they came to the grand house, which could only belong to the Master of Laketown. Legolas raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could contact the firm wood, a man appeared to the side and beckoned them round the side of the house. Confused, Legolas and Brúthor followed him and saw that there was, of all people, a dwarf waiting to take their horses to the stable. Legolas would have questioned what one of the mountain folk was doing in a town of men, but as soon as they handed over the horses the dwarf took the reigns, bowed once, and was gone. Once the horses were no longer in their way, the man who had summoned them approached with a silky smile on his broad and slightly unpleasant face, under his immaculately combed black hair. Suddenly, Legolas recognised him as the messenger who had displeased his father, and suspicion rose up within him. Here was one person to keep an eye on.

"You are here to see the Master, I presume?" the man drawled, showing them the way inside with a low bow. "Your horses will be fed and watered in the stables, they are welcome to stay here for as long as you please, just as you are welcome to stay here for as long as you please. There are many spare rooms."

This did not surprise Legolas in the slightest, though it irked him that while there was ample space in the Master's mansion the commoners of the lower town were crammed into dirty, tumble-down shacks. Out loud, he said, "Thank you for your hospitality, and we would be grateful to leave our horses here, but as for ourselves do not trouble yourself; we have already arranged our accommodation."

"Very well then, I will show you to the Master," said the man silkily, beckoning the way.

Sharing a glance, the two elves stepped through the back door to the Master's mansion and were shown up several flights of stairs until they reached a sumptuously decorated room with a large glass window looking out over the square. By the window, facing outward and serenely observing the mundane lives of lesser humans, stood the Master himself.

Legolas felt sick. The sheer lavishness of this place compared to the run-down buildings on the edge of town was enough to tell him everything he needed to know about this town's claim of poverty. Clearly, all the wealth that had ever been donated to this town had been funnelled straight to this man, the man who had before been the almost sole cause of Laketown's poverty and here again was depriving the people entirely for personal gain. Legolas had never known a ruler to care less about his people. No doubt this was why the Master had been unable to gain the title of King, though he would clearly enjoy that power.

The Master did not turn until Brúthor cleared his throat quietly. Then he jumped slightly, and in the few moments he took to face them, Legolas noted that the other man had left them, having slipped away quietly after leading them up the stairs. That was somewhat a disappointment, as it would make keeping an eye on him more difficult. Still, the Master would have the answers to a fair few of Legolas' questions - indeed, a mere glance at him had spoken volumes - so this time was not altogether being wasted.

"I suppose you're the elves from Mirkwood?" came the Master's dreary voice, as the stout and greasy man observed the two elves with impatience.

"My Lord, I am Prince Legolas Thranduilion, and I am here to speak on behalf of my father regarding the aid given to Esgaroth for its rebuilding," Legolas said, stepping forward and giving the smallest bow he could manage while still being respectful.

"The rebuilding," repeated the Master, nodding to himself with a slight frown and moving over to the table at the back of the room where he poured himself a drink and took a long swig before answering. "Darlan, was it, who summoned you?"

"I beg your pardon - Darlan?" said Legolas.

"Neat fellow, tall, black hair," replied the Master, waving one hand to accentuate his point while using the other to refill his glass.

"Yes, I believe it was," the Elf Prince confirmed.

"Talk to him, then. He knows more about the town than I do," said the Master gruffly. He walked stiffly to the other side of the room and glanced out of the window again, looking down on the bustling market square. "Bunch of rowdy peasants," he remarked.

"But - with no ill regard, my Lord - should you not pay more heed to your people, in your duty as their leader?" said Legolas, careful not to sound too accusatory. A glance at Brúthor told him that the other elf would have liked to rephrase that a little less diplomatically, and probably to a worse end.

"The commoners are no concern of mine - Darlan can deal with them, and come to me if there's a problem. I'm getting too old for this type of thing," grumbled the Master.

Legolas was abruptly reminded how the bodies of men deteriorate with age, which he had momentarily forgotten. Fortunately that type of affliction did not affect elves, however he knew that dwarves were like men in that regard, with only two hundred years difference in their average lifespans. Dwarves, he saw, showed signs of age - most prominently, the length of their beard - however they rarely became ill and did not weaken in body until death was but a decade away. Men were weaker, and grew weary early on, and died of many illnesses, always long before their hundredth year.

"Darlan showed us here to talk with you," said Brúthor abruptly - the first words he had spoken to the Master.

"Did he now? Hmmm. Well. I won't be much help to you, I'm afraid," said the Master apologetically. He did not bother to turn and face them. Legolas sensed a dismissal, but he was not going to give up that easily.

"Could you not hear our questions, and answer what you can so that we may be gone quicker?" he suggested placidly.

"Well you won't get many answers," said the Master wearily, beginning to relent.

"We will not stay any longer than necessary," promised Legolas, "If you just provide us with this small information. Our visit, after all, is for the benefit of your town."

"All right, all right," said the Master at last, "Just ask the questions and begone with you."

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><p><em>So, who can be trusted? What does Darlan have to do with all of this? Will Ori be able to decode the letter in time, and what will it say?<em>

_Reviews cheer me up loads :) also reviewers get a free imaginary handkerchiefs with "B.B." embroidered on them for when you go to see BotFA. Or if you've already seen it, for when you go see it again._

_P.S. I discovered today that the chords for The Last Goodbye are really easy on ukulele. Just a random thing I thought I'd share :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_Early update! Thanks to all the reviews last chapter :)_

_Sunny and Kili the guest, thank you so much! Your reviews mean so much to me even if I can't reply personally to them._

_Despite being a long chapter, nothing important plotwise really happens this time. It was just what I felt like writing, and I thought instead of deleting it I would post it as an in-between-proper-chapters present - so it doesn't really count ;)_

_As I said before, you do not need to remember the names of all them characters I've invented, but here are a few that might be useful:_

Dûf is the youngest dwarf at the outpost - keep tabs on him, just for this chapter ;)

Gjûki and Hogni are brothers. Gjuki (the older one) has good aim and Kili wants to teach him archery.

Amras is Tauriel's right hand elf, the second-in-command of the guard. Cellissel is a young female guard member.

Hinnor and Âlof (who is a girl, despite the beard) are the slightly-older mentors for elves and dwarves respectively.

_Yikes, that seems like a lot! Don't worry though, I'll keep reminding you when it actually matters. Also if you need to, refer back to this list as you read. Enjoy the not-quite-a-chapter!_

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><p>By the look of surprise on Tauriel's face when Kili rode into the clearing on a dappled grey pony, she had not been expecting him to return so soon. The expression was quickly replaced with joy, however, when she ran to greet him.<p>

"My slow and painful death has been put off to a later date," the dwarf greeted jovially, gathering the pony's leading rope in his hand so that they could make their way through the forest, "Instead I get to be worked to death for two weeks, while Fili gets to die of boredom. Personally, I'm glad I didn't get his end of the deal."

"Are you all right? How was your journey? How in Arda did you persuade your uncle to let you return?" exclaimed Tauriel, falling into step beside Kili as they meandered their way towards the telltale shouts that meant the dwarves and elves were arguing again.

"I'm fine, the journey was uneventful, and I didn't," replied Kili, ending with a sheepish grin.

"_Again_?" Tauriel refrained from rolling her eyes, "Do you do anything with his permission nowadays?"

Kili stroked his chin - more a habit for checking to see if his beard had noticeably grown than for thinking - and cast his memory back to the last time he had asked permission from Thorin for anything. He couldn't remember.

"How have things here been?" he said, deciding that a change of topic was for the best, "What's going on now?"

"Amras is trying to get the dwarves to climb trees," explained Tauriel with a smile of amusement, "We could use your help. The elves have been in the trees for almost an hour, and Âlof is still being stubborn."

"Ah, well, it's a common dwarvish trait I suppose," acknowledged Kili, unable to surpress a smirk.

"Why does that not surprise me?" sighed Tauriel, though not wearily; there was a distinct twinkle in her eye.

"Reminds me of some elves I know," commented Kili teasingly in return.

The elf maiden chose not to retaliate, for at that moment they stepped into the small copse at the entrance to the outpost, and around the trunk of a nearby tree stood Amras, Hinnor and eight young dwarves. On second glance, Kili noticed that it was the tree with a ladder carven into it, which he had ascended with Tauriel the night before. Presumably the dwarves were refusing to climb it.

"You do this as compulsory training?" asked Kili inquisitively.

"Of course," replied Tauriel, "Without it we could not be a forest people."

"I thought it was all just natural," admitted Kili, surprised.

"Our affinity with trees is; the balance and grace must be learned," said Tauriel, "There are such things as clumsy elves, though it is rare."

"Unfortunately, I don't think there is such a thing as a docile dwarf," said Kili as they watched the argument in front of them unfold.

"We like to keep two feet on the ground, thank you very much! Dwarves do not climb trees!" Âlof was exclaiming fervently.

"If you are fighting in a forest it is well to be able to escape upwards," Amras said reasonably, though a note in his voice told Kili that this argument had been repeated several times.

"Then let us fight on the mountain and elves fight in their forest!" Âlof said firmly.

"That is not how battle works, Âlof," Kili stepped in, seeing where he might help, "You may remember that last winter there was a great battle on the slopes of Erebor? Well, the Elves came out from their forest to help us win that battle, and if they needed help we might need to go into the forest to fight with them."

Here, he sent a necessary wink to the elves standing to the side, since they all knew that the prelude to the battle had not gone entirely like that. Still, the cadets didn't need the details. Unfortunately, Âlof and most of the others still looked unimpressed. Perhaps it would be better if he climbed up first, to give them the confidence to try.

"If you are scared, just remember that we dwarves are shorter than elves which means we have a lower centre of gravity. Do you know what that means?"

The dwarflings looked at each other, then one of them suggested, "It means we fall over easier?"

"Quite the opposite," grinned Kili, "Nothing can knock us down. We have better balance than the taller races, so we are in fact less likely to fall off a branch of a tree. So, is everyone ready to follow me? Is anybody scared?"

"No!" came the chorus of voices, and suddenly there seemed to be a boosted morale among the group, as if shocked that anyone would even suggest that they were cowards.

"If a giant spider dropped from a tree right now and tried to bite you, would you be scared?" he added as a test.

"No!" came the answer again, then one small voice added, "How big?"

Kili just grinned again, then turned to the tree and grasped the first wooden handholds. They were quite far apart, but not unmanageably so, and he scaled the tree to the first major branch pretty quickly. On it, there had been built a wide wooden platform, stretching a quarter of the way around the tree. Tauriel had called it a flet, though apparently it was too low and too small to be a proper flet, and the real ones were in Mallorn trees, which grew twice as high as this forest and were known to most Mirkwood elves only in legend. Perching on the flat planks of wood, he looked down to see how the younger ones were faring. None of them had attempted to follow him yet, but a couple were edging closer to the tree trunk, which was at least an improvement. He was about to shout a word of encouragement, when he heard a voice at his ear.

"Are they all scared? Or are they just useless?"

Turning sharply, Kili saw a young elf at his ear - a boy - but he couldn't for the life of him remember the name that corresponded with the face. They all looked the same to him.

"That's a dangerous question to ask a dwarf," Kili replied, "Rule number one: never insult a dwarf's kin, race, home, or friends. Rule number two: never suggest that a dwarf is in any way scared, incapable, or disloyal. Remember that."

The elf shrugged. "I just thought you might know."

"I do. They are wary trying anything elvish, because they don't trust elves to keep them safe. It's a reasonable assumption to make, considering our past," Kili explained, "It's also harder to climb with shorter limbs. Give them time."

A shout came from down below, and Kili looked to see the youngest dwarf cadet, Dûf, about two steps up the tree. The shouting was the other dwarves cheering him on loudly. Kili joined in without a second of hesitation, and accidentally caught Tauriel's eye as he did so - she was standing next to Amras and Hinnor, watching in amusement - and he sent her a wink, though not for any particular reason. It occurred to him, as it did often, how beautiful she looked among the trees; how at home she seemed, as if she herself was part of the forest. Her hair blended with the red bark of trees behind her, and her garb could have been part of the foliage that draped down from the canopy above. She smiled back at him, almost shyly - though not quite, because Tauriel was never shy - and he felt his heart give that familiar flutter that he had become quite adept at hiding, because to let it grow would mean the end of the world as he knew it, and would force others to make selfless sacrifices for him, which he could not allow.

Kili was pulled out of his trance when a face appeared almost directly in front of his, and Dûf stepped gingerly onto the flet beside him, clinging onto the trunk for dear life. Kili snapped his attention to him and lent a steady shoulder while the next cadet - Hogni, it looked like, though Gjûki was not far behind - stepped onto the first groove.

"That wasn't too hard, was it?" smiled Kili, though he noticed that the more Dûf stared towards the ground, the greener he became. "Don't look downwards, fix your gaze on the trees around. Look over there - it looks like the elves have managed to climb round to the other side of the clearing."

Dûf looked, and narrowed his eyes immediately. The elves were lounging about in the lower branches of their tree, clearly making a show of enjoying themselves. Kili would have to work hard to get his dwarves comfortable in the trees, and then they could show the elves that nothing is out of a dwarf's range of capability. In fact, he was feeling especially competitive because if the dwarves were to leave tomorrow, it would be a disgrace to let the elves believe it was due to some sort of embarrassment. It was with that thought that he remembered he hadn't actually told Tauriel about Dwalin; he had been sucked into helping the young dwarves climb trees so quickly that half of the things he had meant to tell her had gone unsaid. Perhaps there would be a way to talk to her once all the cadets were hopping around in the trees.

When Hogni scrambled onto the branch beside Dûf, Kili carefully switched places with both of them so that he could help the others up one by one. Gjûki, Ginnar, Râthsvith, Orvar, Suthri and Âlof followed, and finally there was a line of nine dwarves sitting on the wide wooden platform. As Kili looked along the branch, he suddenly realised how silly they must look, nine dwarves lined up in a tree, and was almost sad that Thorin couldn't see them because the look on the dwarf king's face would have been priceless. It also brought back less than welcome memories of burning pines and howling wolves, but he pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind.

"Anyone fancy going higher?" asked Kili, not really expecting anyone to volunteer, but to his surprise Âlof nodded and raised her hand, as well as Orvar and Hogni. None of the others seemed eager, and indeed a couple more of them looked a little pale. "In that case, I will go down with anyone who wishes to meet firm ground again, but Âlof, you may climb as high as you like with the others. Come down whenever you wish to, and if you get stuck just shout and I'll come and help. The steps only go halfway up the tree but you may continue further if you feel safe. Just be careful where you put your hands and feet, because the thinner branches are likely to snap under too much weight. Got that, everyone?"

Eight dwarves nodded - one of them rather reluctantly. Gjûki looked exceedingly grim, and with a jolt, Kili realised that he was about to try and talk Hogni out of climbing higher - it was a look he recognised in an instant. Well, if the younger of the brothers was anything like him, Kili wouldn't advise it either from a safety point of view, but he couldn't help sympathising with Hogni, and knew better than anyone how young boys needed to throw themselves into challenges and test themselves to the limit. It was how confidence grew; finding your capabilities and pushing them further and further. Dwarves were made of tough material, and the worst that ever came of youthful and reckless endeavours was usually a couple of bruises, which could be proudly shown off as battle scars to admiring friends. He could not intercede in the argument, but he could put Gjûki's mind at rest a little.

He dropped to the ground and craned his neck to see Âlof already a good way up the tree. Though she had been most reluctant to climb in the first place, he could see her clear determination to beat the elves. Suthri was already standing beside him, having climbed down, and Orvar was not far behind Âlof. Râthsvith and Ginnar were both halfway down the ladder, and sure enough Gjûki and Hogni were deep in argument. Gjûki was refusing to descend unless Hogni promised to come after him. Dûf was sitting on the flet beside them looking green.

Kili was so preoccupied with watching the argument that he almost didn't notice an elf - the same one he had spoken to minutes ago - drop onto the platform beside Dûf and address the youngest dwarfling. As it was, Kili noticed it out of the corner of his eye and strained his ears to listen to what was being said, however, he could catch none of it because he was standing on the ground and the brothers' argument drowned out what little of it might have been audible. Still, the elf's face clearly spelled trouble, and Kili didn't like it at all.

When he felt it was high time to intercede in Gjûki and Hogni's argument, he stepped forward and spoke firmly but reassuringly.

"Gjûki, please come down now if you are not going to climb any higher. Hogni, you are free to choose what you do but I am trusting you to be careful if you stay in the tree. If you have any fear at all of falling, shout immediately, do you understand? I will come and help you straight away."

The older brother put on a face of reluctant acceptance, and with one last whispered word to his brother, began to climb down the carven wooden ladder. As soon as Gjûki hit the floor, Hogni was climbing upwards like a squirrel, confident and reckless. Kili wondered vaguely whether he had made the right decision allowing any of them to climb higher. Perhaps he ought to talk with Tauriel while in a tree to keep an eye on the three daring dwarflings.

Dûf was the last one left on the flet, and he was about to climb down, so Kili thought it was safe to request a word with Tauriel while leaving the others under the supervision of Hinnor and Amras - or maybe just Amras, since it seemed Hinnor had disappeared off to somewhere. He supposed it would be just as good to tell Amras about Dwalin's approach as well, but somehow he couldn't resist the excuse to steal some extra time with Tauriel before they had to part ways.

"Tauriel?"

"Yes?" she turned with a smile.

"I need to speak with you, but I need to keep an eye on three of the dwarves as well. Can we talk in a tree?"

Tauriel's smile broadened. "Of course. Any particular tree you so desire, your highness?"

Kili rewarded that with a most indignant pretend glare, but Tauriel only laughed. He heard her voice ring behind him as he stalked proudly away to the tree under which most of the young dwarves were stood conversing animatedly, then climbed into the tree swiftly and easily. He went higher up this time, until summer foliage began to brush against his ears and snag in his hair, but he was still not as high as the three who had climbed before him. They were visible as shadows up above him, moving slowly from bough to bough. Continuing was easier, he knew, the higher up one climbed, since branches and leaves below blocked out the terrible distance of a fall, and the branches became, if not wider, then more numerous and closer together, giving a sense of a secure net all around.

Settling himself on a branch with his legs hanging down on one side and his shoulder to the trunk, Kili felt the slender figure of Tauriel rise behind him before she circumnavigated the trunk and lowered herself gracefully onto the branch slightly lower and at a right angle to Kili's. This way, they were almost facing each other and their eyes were at the same height so they could talk with ease.

"We seem to be making a habit of this," Tauriel commented as they settled, and Kili laughed, but then his face fell as he remembered what they had to talk about.

"What is this about then?" she asked with a rueful smile, as if having already guessed what was on Kili's mind.

"I didn't finish telling you what happened when we got to Erebor," said Kili gloomily.

"Did your predictions come true? Was your Uncle angry?" asked Tauriel with concern.

Kili frowned. "Well, yes," he said, "And no. He seemed...preoccupied, somehow. But the truth came out, and he didn't like it."

"Then you sneaked out to come here? Is Fili all right - why didn't he come too?" Tauriel inquired.

"Fili has to stay in the Mountain and do nothing for two weeks. That's his punishment. I've got to take over his duties for those two weeks, starting tomorrow, which is why I need to ride back before dawn. But the real reason I came here was to warn you that tomorrow morning, Dwalin is coming here to take the cadets home, and he won't want to stay longer than is necessary. You can't tell the cadets that I wasn't meant to be here, or that they're leaving tomorrow, because then they're more likely to say something about it to Dwalin, but they should be ready to pack up quickly and go otherwise it'll be all the worse for you."

Tauriel nodded grimly. "I understand. What about Âlof?"

"What about Âlof?"

"Shouldn't she know, even if the others don't?"

Kili paused, then answered, "Yes, she should know. I trust her, and since she will no doubt have to deal the most with Dwalin, I suppose she has the right. You can tell her as well as Amras, then."

"Um...won't you tell Âlof, and I'll tell Amras?" Tauriel suggested casually.

Kili turned and looked at her with a frown of puzzlement, but could read nothing in her face. "Okay, I'll tell Âlof," he replied, sitting back and resigning himself to pondering.

They sat in silence for what might have been a minute or an hour. It was companionable, and neither elf nor dwarf felt the need to break it with words. They leaned against the trunk and stared at the rich green leaves surrounding them, and occasionally snuck glances at each other. At one point, Kili found himself admiring Tauriel's hand, which rested on the branch beside her. It was so pale and slender and flawless that Kili found it hard to believe that it had been twirling knives and pulling bowstrings for hundreds of years.

It was so hard to believe altogether that a being could be so old, and yet so young. Perhaps it was all a matter of perspective, but Kili couldn't imagine a person wiser or more eternally beautiful than Tauriel. It was strange, really; the elves at Rivendell had never caught his attention like this - they had been too floaty and ethereal and _clean_, somehow managing to be condescending without even uttering a word. But Tauriel wasn't like that - she fascinated him. He had promised himself he would ignore his feelings for the good of everybody around him, but he couldn't help it. She fascinated him.

It was when he let out a long sigh of internal conflict that Tauriel spoke, sensing that they had been silent long enough.

"When must you set off, to return before arousing suspicion?"

"I have a while here," Kili replied eventually with a nonchalant shrug, "I was hoping to get in a couple of hours of sleep before I have to leave."

"Well, a while is better than nothing," said Tauriel, leaning her head against the tree trunk and staring out through the small gaps between the thick leaves overhead and into the dark blue sky. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me too," said Kili quietly.

The leaves rustled around them and the air seemed cooler than on the forest floor. It was eerily quiet - even the voices down below sounded far away, as if muffled somehow, and no birds sang within earshot. For a moment, Kili thought he felt relaxed, but then a feeling started to creep up from the tips of his toes that he tried to ignore but couldn't quite. It was only when it reached his stomach when he saw it for what it was: the type of anticipation that comes just before something bad happens. He had felt it all too often in the past year, but he had not expected to feel it here, now.

He saw Tauriel turn, having sensed him stiffen, but his mind was elsewhere. He looked up, and saw only two dim shapes moving about, quite near each other. They were closer to him and Tauriel now, which meant they were probably descending, but no matter how much he squinted, he could not see a third.

"Kili."

Tauriel's voice brought his head whipping round to face the she-elf, a rising sense of panic in his chest.

"Where's -" he began, but she cut him off.

"Look behind you."

He looked, and sure enough, almost as low as them now, was Hogni, making his way down through the branches. He grinned and waved when he saw he had Kili's attention, and Kili grinned in relief and waved back. The feeling didn't go away, however.

"Tauriel, should we climb down now? You ought to tell Amras about tomorrow, and I should check on the cadets," he said, trying to keep nonchalant.

"Is there something wrong?" asked Tauriel cautiously, not missing the note of anxiety.

"No- well, maybe - not really - I mean, not yet, but -" Kili let out a huff of annoyance when he found himself unable to explain the feeling he had. There was no way to prove that it was real, and he worried that Tauriel would think him imagining things. He need not have worried.

"It's okay, I trust your instinct," she cut in, "If you think it's safer on the ground, then we'll go down."

Kili smiled gratefully, "Thanks."

They made their way down, and found the dwarflings where they had left them, except that now each had a long stick in hand and Amras was teaching them sparring moves. With Âlof up a tree and unable to voice her mistrust of elvish fighting methods, the other cadets were perfectly happy to oblige in whatever Amras told them to do and all in all it was quite a peaceful atmosphere - or would have been, if not for the young elves in the trees to the far side of the clearing. It was not quite apparent what was going on over there, but clearly something was, and Hinnor, standing to the side and watching the dwarves spar, seemed quite aware of it and kept glancing unrestfully over to the rustling boughs.

Tauriel made her way over to Amras once she had picked the leaves out of Kili's hair, and the dwarven archer decided that now would be the best time to have a word with Gjûki about learning to shoot a bow. It was not hard to pick out the ginger haired dwarfling among the others; his head stuck out like a bright orange flame. He was sparring with a lad taller than him, Râthsvith, who seemed to be gaining the upper hand most of the time and was driving Gjûki slowly backwards until they stood but feet from Kili.

The prince of Erebor finished their duel for them with a couple of swift moves, moving between them and disarming one with each hand so that two sticks clattered to the ground and two dwarflings gaped openly.

"That's an elvish trick, that," said Kili, "It's meant to be done with knives though - if those had been real swords I would have chopped my hands off. I won't teach it to you, but if you ask nicely one day an elf might." He grinned, knowing they wouldn't - at least not yet - dare to ask an elf nicely for anything. As a matter of fact, Legolas had taught him that trick, and he had used it on Tauriel afterwards, much to her great surprise, during a sword duel acting as a tiebreaker for an archery match. Unfortunately, she had still beaten him in the end, but that wasn't entirely unexpected.

"Gjûki, I would like a word with you - don't worry, it's nothing bad," he added, "Râthsvith, why don't you go and duel with..." he did a quick head count, deducting the dwarves in the trees and working out who couldn't be seen sparring because they didn't have a partner, "...Dûf."

"Yes, prince Kili," said Râthsvith dutifully, and Kili sighed internally at the formality. He knew he would never be rid of the _majesties_ and _highnesses_ for the rest of his life, but he had hoped that here in the forest some level of confidence could be reached. Mahal, these cadets were only just younger than his cousin Gimli, and when had he ever shown respect to Fili or Kili due to their heritage?

He took Gjûki some way away from the others, where he was sure the other dwarves could not eavesdrop, since this would save for embarrassment on Gjûki's part should the bow be too strongly labelled as an elvish weapon. Unfortunately, Kili didn't realise until it was too late that they were right underneath where the young elves were lounging in the trees and tossing pinecones to each other. He concluded that the best thing to do was to ignore them and hope Gjûki wasn't too put off by them.

"Gjûki, I noticed the other day that you have very good accuracy with a stone," started Kili, hoping he sounded encouraging.

The dwarfling's face darkened. "I didn't start it," he said firmly with a note of accusation.

It took Kili a moment to work out what he was talking about, then he remembered the argument with the stone and the sticks the previous morning which he had not had time to witness in its entirety.

"I do not blame you for that - at least, no more than half," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "I know the elves can be a wasp in the beard but remember they think the same of us. While we're here we might as well get along."

"But they think they know so much," groaned Gjûki, "They think they're better at everything!"

Kili shrugged, "You get used to it. Some of them aren't that bad. Anyway, that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

Gjûki stared. "You didn't want to tell me off for the stones?"

"No, I wanted to make sure you know that your aim is better than most, and if you decide to, you can use it to your advantage."

"How?" the young dwarf's interest was piqued.

"Learn archery," said Kili simply.

"Learn...archery?" conflicted emotions crossed Gjûki's face as he struggled to form a response.

"I know it is not a common choice of weapon, but it is not any the lesser for that," Kili explained neutrally, "It is just as effective as an axe or a sword, albeit in a slightly different situation, and just as important in battle." He remembered clearly receiving this exact talk from various adults back when he was only a child and too small to even lift a sword, let alone wield it properly. It had not convinced him back then, and only during the quest, when he learned for himself the truth in those words, had he believed it. Now, he was sure Gjûki wasn't convinced, but he could tell already there was a desire to learn and be the best at something, which in the end had been what persuaded him, all those years ago.

"Isn't it..." Gjûki bit his lip nervously, "Isn't it an elvish weapon?"

The inevitable setback. Kili had known this argument would come up at some point, but he had seen both sides of the argument now for many years and knew it was something that would always cause discord.

"It is a fact that many more elves learn the bow than dwarves," he started carefully, "However, that is just a difference in culture. It does not mean that a dwarf cannot use a bow. In fact, it originally came about purely due to where we live. We dwarves live in a mountain, so naturally we have the metal to forge swords and axes. Elves, on the other hand, live in the forest so they have the wood for carving bows. They also use the bow often for hunting, which is the obvious thing to do if you live in a forest."

"Yes, I know," huffed Gjûki impatiently, "but that still makes bows elvish."

"Not really," said Kili, "We have very different styles of bow. Last time their prince tried to shoot with my bow, he missed the target altogether."

"But it's still a _bow_," argued Gjûki worriedly.

"Do you want me to call it something different?" Kili raised an eyebrow, beginning to run out of patience, "Would changing its name make it something different and less elvish?"

"But dwarves don't _have_ bows," Gjûki sighed unhappily, "There aren't even any targets in the training rooms back home, and there's not a single bow in the store cupboards."

This, Kili realised, was true. The only bow he ever used nowadays was the one slung across his back at this very moment, and even that was of elvish make - a gift from Tauriel when his old one had perished, and she admitted to having bent a few rules to acquire it, for it was of excellent quality yet of dwarvish size. Still, getting one for Gjûki shouldn't be too much of a challenge; Bifur would probably accept no charge for crafting one, and these days Erebor's trade brought in plenty of fine quality wood.

"Am I a dwarf?" asked Kili, deciding to go with a basic strategy.

Gjûki looked at him incredulously. "Yes," he said.

"Do I have a bow?" Kili continued.

"Yes," Gjûki answered.

"Then dwarves can have bows," Kili shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing.

"But what about the others? They all think the bow is only for elves," confided Gjûki, the corner of his lips downturned.

"You have to face the possibility of meeting people who think that all your life," Kili said honestly, "But it's your job to show them they're wrong."

"If I say yes," said Gjûki slowly, "Will you be the one teaching me?"

"If you want me to," replied Kili, "I'm sure there are elves who would be happy to teach you, but you would only be able to learn during your time here, which might not be often enough to make progress. I am busy, but I do not know of anyone else who could do it - apart from the King, who, by the way, also learned archery alongside the sword, and he is far too busy. If you wish to learn, I will make it part of my duties to teach you. Everything else aside, do you want to be a archer?"

Gjûki paused, thinking for a moment, then he replied firmly, "Yes."

Kili smiled. "Good. Just so you know, I wouldn't have accepted any other answer."

The younger dwarf grinned. "How many elves can you beat?"

"All except two," confirmed Kili proudly. Of course, there were elves whom he had never competed against and would surely beat him - the Elvenking for example - but in all the competitions he had been part of, there were only two elves who continued to split his arrows on every occasion except the rare few when he didn't score a bullseye: Tauriel, and the Prince of Mirkwood himself.

Gjûki looked awed, then lowered his voice, speaking almost timidly. "Do you think...one day...I could beat all the elves too?"

"I am sure you will," said Kili with certainty, though it was with an element of regret, for he neglected to mention that every elf here was likely to long outlive the both of them and become more proficient with a bow than they could ever hope to achieve in their mortal lifespans.

Gjûki's toothy grin returned, and as Kili sent him back to spar with Râthsvith - who for some reason wasn't with Dûf - there was a distinct spring in his step. Kili was about to join Tauriel and Amras when he heard an angry shout from above. He looked up just in time to see a blond elf above him lose his footing on the branch and as if in slow motion fall towards the ground. A yell came from the elf as he realised he was falling, and many voices cried out in shock all around as heads turned to the source of the commotion.

Kili didn't even need to think. In two bounds he was beneath the falling elf and leaning backwards, ready to break the elf's fall. When the moment of impact came, Kili allowed himself to hit the ground and roll sideways, taking the elf with him. An audible breath was let out all around as the tension was released. It was only as Kili got to his feet once more that there was another shout from above, and a flurry of elvish that had Tauriel and Amras wincing and Hinnor covering his ears. Kili hadn't even been aware that such strong language existed in Sindarin - or whatever dialect was being spoken - and though he could not understand it, he could certainly measure it by the other elves' reactions.

Then a voice sounded that Kili did recognise, and suddenly everything made sense. He mentally kicked himself for not noticing before - Dûf wasn't on the ground, and hadn't been since he climbed up for the first time. Somehow, he had climbed from tree to tree and found himself with the young elves, which had inevitably caused trouble and continued to do so. Kili wondered how much the cheeky elf who had spoken to him and then to Dûf had to do with it. Quite a lot, he suspected.

"Dûf, climb down from the tree now," Kili yelled up angrily, "I want everyone in this clearing, no one left in the trees, understood?"

He walked quickly over to Tauriel and Amras, who looked just as shaken as he felt.

"Are you all right?" Tauriel was quick to ask.

"I'm fine," replied Kili, "I'm more worried about Dûf. What he thinks he's doing is beyond me."

"They seem to be having more trouble - I'll go and sort it out," said Amras, going over to the trees where some of the elves were having trouble climbing down, despite their earlier show of confidence. Hinnor followed him.

Suddenly Cellissel burst from the trees, looking frantically around the clearing.

"Is everything all right? I heard a shout," she said quickly when all eyes turned to her.

"Everything is under control," replied Amras as he swung himself into the tree, "And thanks to Kili, no one is hurt."

At this, the elf who had been rescued looked sheepish and tried to back away into a tree. Cellissel noticed, and gave him a look that was part inquisitive, part disdainful.

"So Midhon's in trouble?" she asked.

"All of them are," Amras called back through the leaves, then his voice was heard more distantly, addressing the group of elves in the trees, plus Dûf.

"It is ill fate that this had to happen today," said Kili to Tauriel, "Now it'll be even worse when Dwalin comes." He looked quickly around to check nobody else had heard him, and relaxed when he saw that the dwarves weren't paying him the slightest bit of attention. They were all watching as Amras helped Dûf down from the trees, followed by the elves, who were sporting varying expressions of annoyance.

"You were right with your gut feeling," commented Tauriel quietly, "That was not a big fall, but it still could have ended worse."

Kili grimaced. "At least we have that to be thankful for. I still don't understand what's so hard about it though - why can't they just all get on?"

"Not everyone is as trusting as you," replied Tauriel, "Or as accepting."

"I know," Kili sighed, "I just hoped."

Tauriel smiled to herself. One of the things she loved about Kili was the way he opened himself to others and in turn made the effort to learn more about other people than what a first glance might give away. But despite all his travels and narrow escapes from evil beings, he couldn't help but assume the best of everyone, as if they weren't capable of hatred - and the only reason for that was because he himself would never hurt another living thing that had done him no harm.

"What are you smiling at?" came Kili's indignant voice.

"Oh - nothing," replied Tauriel, smiling wider, "You."

They kept the hearing and reprimanding of Dûf and the elves short in favour of sending all the young trainees to bed as soon as possible. It was not yet dark, but there was no point in staying up later when the adults knew that the day tomorrow would be a long and stressful one for all of them. Kili kept Âlof behind to tell her the situation, and though she was scowling fiercely by the end she assured Kili that she did not blame him for anything - not that he would have cared either way - and promised to shield the others from Dwalin's wrath.

Kili was to leave back to Erebor when the night was not yet at its darkest, so he could arrive and sneak into the mountain long before dawn. In the interest of being rested, he took himself to the small room he had slept in last night just after the cadets were sent to sleep, and only bothered to kick his boots off before flopping onto the covers fully clothed. The night was warm, at least, so travelling would not be too uncomfortable later.

He was still far from sleep when Amras poked his head around the door, allowing a thin sliver of light to filter in. The elf would have been sharing the room with Kili, but Amras had told him he would stay up until Kili left so he could wake him when it was time to go.

Clearly unsure as to whether Kili was still awake, Amras slipped into the room soundlessly and shut the door with a creak and a click behind him. The room was now pitch black, and the only thing that told the dwarf that there was even another person in the room was the almost inaudible rustle of bedcovers to the side of him.

He rolled over onto his back, and heard Amras freeze.

"Are you awake?" came the barely audible whisper.

"Yes," Kili whispered back, because it seemed a crime to speak any louder in the dark silence.

"I'm...sorry, for all the trouble that was caused today."

"It's not your fault," said Kili, "Though I never actually thought Elves could be badly behaved. You all seem so serious and wise."

"Have you met Tauriel?" said Amras, and Kili could hear the grin in his voice.

He chuckled, though he hadn't actually made this connection yet; in his mind, she didn't come under the general category of elves but held a special place by herself. "Yes, I have indeed met Tauriel, and she is...altogether different from any other being I have ever known," he replied.

"Ah, I see," murmured Amras, though Kili could not quite tell if he was referring to his previous statement or something else altogether. "To answer your first question, it is because these elves are young. We are not born with hundreds of years' experience, you know. Elflings are just as prone to accidents and mischief as dwarflings are - and yes, some of them never grow out of it. I have heard that Lord Elrond's twin sons still bring havoc upon Rivendell from time to time. These elflings have much to learn of the world; the oldest is only seventy years."

"I'm seventy eight," mumbled Kili.

There was a rustling, and he was sure if there had been any light to see it by, Amras would be staring at him.

"I always forget how young you are," said the elf, and Kili noticed he skipped the part _and how short the lifetimes of dwarves_. "You have wisdom beyond your years."

Kili couldn't help but laugh. "Don't let Fili hear you say that. Most people think I'm irresponsible and reckless."

"How many years are between you and Âlof?"

"She's in her early sixties, so almost twenty. I have a cousin around her age - Gimli - who should be arriving from Ered Luin in a month or so. He wanted to come on the quest but his father Gloin wouldn't let him."

"You see, elves are considered fully grown by age one hundred, but after that it's very hard to guess an elf's age just by looking at them. We don't grow old like men do."

"Dwarves are much the same," agreed Kili. "We are technically fully grown by age fifty, but after that the best way to guess a dwarf's age is to look at the beard. It's not until we're nearly dead that we start properly ageing."

"If it is not offensive to inquire, do you keep your beard short on purpose? Or does it just grow slowly?" Amras asked with interest.

"A bit of both," replied Kili, "It is not at all common for dwarves to cut their beards, though Uncle Thorin did for years, in memory of what was lost when the Dragon came. But a long beard is no good for archery, so I keep it short and just pretend it grows slowly. If it grew a bit faster, I would let it grow then braid it back, but it's the awkward middle stage that's no good, and at this rate, it would be like that for quite a while."

"I must say, I never even considered those problems," remarked Amras, "It would be interesting to have a beard."

Kili couldn't stifle a chuckle. "I should like to see that - a bearded elf."

"They do exist!" Amras informed him "But only those who live to see thousands upon thousands of years ever experience it. I have never met one like that."

"Perhaps one day you will," Kili said, before a wide yawn betrayed his exhaustion. "I'm going to sleep now, if you don't mind."

"Shall I wake you in a few hours?" said Amras.

"Aren't you going to sleep?" asked Kili in puzzlement.

"I sleep lightly, and may wake up when I choose," explained the elf. "I can time my sleep to be short, if needs be."

"Then yes please," yawned Kili, and he rolled over and in an instant was asleep.

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><p><em>I'd love to hear from you in a review! The next chapter should be up on Saturday as usual :)<em>

_(I would also like to point out that Kili's physics earlier in this chapter is slightly flawed - dwarves have a lower centre of gravity and that makes them steadier when they are standing normally, but when balancing on a thin object like a tree branch it is actually better to be tall because of pivoting round a point and stuff. I learned that today. The dwarves don't need to know, though ;) )_


	8. Chapter 8

_Plot plot plot action action action! Completely the opposite from the last chapter. Here is a recap, because there are several links here to be made and anyone who guesses any of them gets a Sherlock medal ;)_

_Thranduil has sent Legolas and a guard, Brúthor, to Laketown to investigate claims of poverty, after a messenger named Darlan came to Mirkwood. While in Mirkwood, Darlan accidentally dropped a letter written in code using dwarf runes which Legolas sent to Fili to be decoded, and which Fili has shared with Ori who is attempting to work out what it says. Fili is currently confined to the mountain as punishment for riding off to Mirkwood without permission and having the bad luck to be attacked on the way by a couple of men. While managing to punch one of his attackers in the nose, Fili was knocked out and found by Kili, and they went back to Erebor together and confessed to their respective acts of disobedience. Kili, as punishment for setting up a guard outpost without informing Thorin, is taking over all his brother's duties on top of his own, but first he has sneaked out back to the outpost to give the elves and dwarflings a fair warning. As he left, he met a young dwarf named Svîur who begged for money but would not give away any information about himself or his family. Before that, an Elven messenger named Arradon came to Erebor and asked Thorin for aid on behalf of Laketown, which the King refused, and finding it suspicious, sent a spy after him._

_That seems to be all the important points...and yes, that was as concise as I could get it. I may have even missed something. As I have said before, it all links together! A hint: it's all a matter of who is working for who, and why. Sherlock medals are up for grabs!_

_A small apology for all the extra characters, and the rather large roles they seem to be playing. I promise I'm using the characters we all know and love as much as I can, but I hope that you can also accept, or even like, the ones I've invented for the plot :)_

_Big shout out (again) to wonderful guest reviewer Kili, who never fails to make me smile :)_

_Enjoy the chapter!_

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><p>In the end, Legolas' questioning of the master gave him plenty of answers, though not strictly to the questions asked, and not without raising other, more interesting questions. It seemed that the Master left most of the running of Laketown to his assistant, Darlan, who in turn employed many different people to oversee various aspects of town life. This was mostly done, Legolas guessed, in supposed secrecy, since the Master was the official face of authority, and the way he seemed to know odds and ends of the townsfolk's more private business suggested that Darlan also employed spies among the people to keep watch on them and report any fishy business.<p>

When they finally took their leave of the Master, Bruthor suggested that they find somewhere to stay for the night, but Legolas wanted to do some more investigating first while it was still light and the townsfolk were still about. Starting to realise that this visit was not all about negotiations of aid, Bruthor went willingly along with his prince's demands. The first person they came across was the dwarf who had taken their ponies, sitting on a step outside the back of the Master's house smoking a pipe lazily. He looked up as they approached, and scowled before stuffing the pipe back between his teeth.

"Excuse me," said Legolas, "I do not mean to bother you, but I am curious that a dwarf would find himself in a town of men. Do you live here?"

"Sometimes," the dwarf replied gruffly.

"Why are you not at the Mountain? Surely there are jobs enough there, and better paid."

"Not this job," said the dwarf.

"Working with horses? That is a curious job for a dwarf, if I may say so."

"And there are plen'y o' curious folk out there, if I may say so, though you only see 'em if you know where to look. Now quit nosing in other people's business and let me smoke in peace."

Sharing a look that clearly said there was nothing left to learn here, the elves made their way round the building and into the quieting market square outside. Legolas did not know where to look to find Darlan, but here he might ask some questions of the ordinary folk and learn a little about life in Esgaroth.

The first person he was able to catch the attention of was a short but wiry old woman at a grocery stand.

"More elves, is it?" she said in a surprisingly strong voice for her stature, "And what might you be doing here about?"

"My apologies - more elves?" said Legolas, standing a few feet back so as not to tower over her too much.

"Well there's been all sorts'a folk round here recently, elves and dwarves - no hobbits, mind. People are a-saying that t'was all a myth and there wasn't no hobbit ever in Laketown, only half a year ago an' all. Fiddlesticks. Saw him myself I did, with my own two eyes, and those ain't ever failed me."

"What were other elves doing here, I wonder?" asked Legolas.

"Oh, I don't bother with the business of strangers too much these days," said the woman, shaking her head, "All sorts'a trouble'll come o' that, strange folk as we've seen here. Leave that to the Master - he'll deal with them."

"Does the master show himself often?" asked Brúthor.

"No, he certainly doesn't come out as much as he used to," replied the woman, "Used to be in an' out of his balcony all the time, but now he shuts hisself away and doesn't see nobody that wants to see him, save for strangers. But his assistant, now, there's one to avoid, though it be near impossible what with all his spies. He's got people everywhere, and he pays them a fair amount what's more. Even decent folk won't refuse the money, and goodness knows we all need it here. But tha's the catch: the common folk pay tax to the Master for the right to sell goods an' suchlike, but some folk deal behind his back-like an' they's the ones what'll get caught by Darlan's men, just for trying'a get a bit more money, which is wha' we all need. An' the spies get their pay and what have you, but the traders lose more and end up in jail like as not. It's a cruel scheme, mark my words."

Legolas' mouth drew into a thin line at these words, but he kept himself from asking more, as news of his inquiries would no doubt reach Darlan through the ears and mouths of his spies if what the woman said was true. Instead, he changed the topic.

"Why do you remain here, where living is poor, when you could make a life for yourself in Dale?" he asked.

The old woman looked suddenly sorrowful. "'Tis true, that. But moving never seemed right. I'm not a person for change."

For a moment it looked as if she might say more, but then her lips pressed tightly together and she turned back to tidying the empty boxes behind the counter.

"Well, it was pleasant meeting you," said Legolas, "We must be on our way now. Goodbye."

"Goodbye, and watch out for Darlan," called the old woman as they walked away.

They meandered their way around emptying stalls and to the other side of the square, not quite sure where they were heading but keeping half an eye out for a good inn where they might stay the night. Elves, unlike the other races, did not make a habit of visiting public houses, generally deeming them rowdy, dangerous and full of crooks, but even the son of a king had to recognise their usefulness when it came to gathering information.

"We're not going to see one if we go this way," said Brúthor as they walked down the Main Street.

"How do you know?" asked Legolas.

"Because we came up this way and I didn't see any," replied the guard smugly. "Come on, the best way to find an inn is by getting lost. They always seem to turn up when you need them most and expect them least. This way!"

Legolas had no choice but to follow his fellow elf as Brúthor turned sharply and headed off at a brisk march down a narrow side street.

"Where are we going?" he asked with barely concealed annoyance.

"That's the point! I have no idea!" said Brúthor brightly.

"Then how in Arda are we going to find our way out, let alone to an inn?" he demanded, quickly matching the shorter elf's pace.

"Trust me, I've done this before," answered Brúthor with a hint of a smirk.

It was then that Legolas finally remembered his companion's history, which was only vaguely known to him but enough to shed some light on this situation. While still in his early 200s, the young elf had run away with a couple of friends on a crazy expedition to the southern lands of men, which was not an entirely ridiculous thing for an elf of that age to do. Adventure always seemed at its most promising during the early years of adulthood, Legolas knew well. The tour had only been planned to last a few years, but instead it had lasted almost fifty - and thus Brúthor and his friend (the one that returned, the other having fallen in love with an elf maiden in Lorien and remained behind) came back many years later a lot less elvish in manner than the majority of the woodland folk. Being slightly shorter than the average elf, Brúthor could get by as a man by dirtying his hair, cutting it to his shoulders and making sure the tips of his ears were covered. The lack of beard could easily be explained away by a concern for neat outward appearance. In this way, Legolas supposed, Brúthor had visited a great many more inns than he himself.

"Very well, but this had better work," Legolas said warily, actually struggling to keep up with his companion as they wove their way between the houses, trying hard not to step on any sleeping dogs or bags of refuse or barbed wires surrounding small runs of chickens.

Suddenly, just as they turned a corner, Legolas shot out his arm and pulled Brúthor against the wall beside him. He pressed a finger to his lips. From around the corners they had just turned, the sound of heavy footfalls could now be clearly heard. They drew closer, then two things happened at once: the person making the footsteps rounded the corner at a sprint, and Legolas moved out in front of him, tripped him neatly, and trapped him on the ground, a knife to his neck. It was a dwarf, and what was more, Legolas recognised him.

"Tell me why you are following us," he snarled, "I warned you twice before, did I not? Or is your memory as poor as your stealth?"

"I...I...I..." stammered the dwarf, and with a sigh Legolas sheathed his knife, though he did not let the spy stand up.

"Do not be so afraid, I would not risk war with Erebor over the death of one snivelling coward. Your name is Nithi, is it not? Yes, I remember. Tell me your purpose," he said.

"It...it was an elf," said the dwarf, the terror not leaving his eyes, "I wasn't following you, either of you - or I wasn't meant to. I got lost!"

"You mean you were following a different elf?" said Legolas.

"Yes, that's what I mean!" said Nithi, "And then I lost him, and then I saw you and thought you were him and followed you!"

Legolas frowned, glancing over to Brúthor.

"Do you know of any elves here on business, Brúthor?" he asked. The other elf shook his head. Legolas turned back to the spy.

"What is the name of the elf you are following, and why were you given this task?" he asked with authority.

"He said...he said his name was Arradon," replied Nithi reluctantly, "He came to the mountain in the name of the Elvenking then asked for gold for Laketown."

This took Legolas so by surprise that he stood up, and Nithi took the opportunity to scramble quickly to his feet.

"You say he came by order of my father, King Thranduil?" said Legolas sharply.

The dwarf spy nodded, backing slowly away from the two elves and trying to make it inconspicuous but failing.

"And his name was definitely Arradon?" added Brúthor.

"Almost certain - could have been lying," replied Nithi, now refusing to be intimidated as the menacing elf took a step forward, emphasising the height difference even though Brúthor was short for his kin.

"Do you know why Arradon - assuming that is his real name, which I do not believe for a second, since I neither know nor have heard of any elf of the woodland realm named Arradon - has travelled to Laketown? Or rather, who is he working for, since it is clear he has friends here who saw fit to send him to the mountain begging for gold?" inquired Legolas.

"If that is indeed true, their plan has backfired," said Brúthor with some satisfaction, "Clearly they thought that their claim would seem more genuine if it was backed up, seemingly, by our King. Little did they imagine that news of this would reach Elven folk who could deny it."

"He only said that he came from the Elvenking with demands for Laketown. I thought he might be going to meet someone when I lost him. He moved so quickly! It's clear he knows this place," said Nithi.

"Then I have no doubt he is one of the exiles," exclaimed Legolas with sudden realisation, "He must live here, though secretly I guess, for I would not expect men to accept an elf so readily into their society."

"That is right," nodded Brúthor, recalling vivid memories from his travels.

"If that is the case, this elf is a dwarf-hater, and also has cause to hate the woodland realm, or at least my father and those loyal to him," said Legolas, "We must search him out and find out his doings. We do not seek an inn tonight! Rather, we seek an elf!"

"My prince, would it not still be wise to find out what the locals know of this elf? If indeed he lives here, he cannot go entirely unnoticed by common folk," said Brúthor reasonably.

"There is wisdom in that," agreed Legolas, "You will find an inn and carry out that purpose. I will go with Nithi to find this exile. We shall meet again at dawn, at the stables by the Master's house."

"Very well," said Brúthor, "I can smell an inn right now, it cannot be far away. Until the morning, then!" With that, he turned tail and ran round another corner, out of sight.

Legolas and Nithi were left standing together in the growing darkness. The dwarf had developed something of a mild loathing for the elf by now, but he realised that if he was ever to find his quarry again and not return to Erebor in shame, he would need this prince's help. As for Legolas, he held no love for the dwarf he was temporarily paired with, but understood that in order to start somewhere, he would need much information that only the spy could give.

"Well, I suppose we must tolerate each other for now," sighed the woodland prince, resigned to his fate. "It could be worse - you could be an orc."

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><p>Not two streets away (if the gaps between houses, some less than a foot wide, could be named as such) Brúthor found an inn called The Stout Otter. It was small but very crowded, and gave off a scent that was not entirely savoury. It was perfect for the job. Brúthor quickly made sure his ears were covered by his hair, then pulled from his bag a pair of tattered trousers that would diminish his elvish garb. His tunic would not make much difference, for apart from its green colour it betrayed no sign of coming from the wood. He changed in the covert space between two houses, and when he stepped out again he looked like he could have been a local. The only remaining thing that was questionable was his hair, because although it was dulled by dirt, it was still longer than was the custom of men; Brúthor had not cut it since his travels, as is the manner of elves, but he satisfied himself with tying it back with a spare piece of green twine he found in his pocket - at least then it didn't look so elvish, and it still covered the tips of his ears. Finally ready, he stepped into the inn.<p>

Noise assaulted him like a hurricane and Brúthor didn't even get time to look around before he was pushed aside by a couple of heatedly arguing men leaving the tavern. He shoved his way towards the bar and confidently ordered himself an ale. The upside of being on duty, it occurred to him, was that he could spend as much money as he liked - the King had entrusted to him a rich sum for emergencies, and though this situation didn't quite qualify as such it was certainly the best use for the money that Brúthor could think of. Not buying ale for himself of course, though that would be necessary to seem inconspicuous - no, he would be clever and use a trick he had used many times on his travels. As an elf, he could drink much more than the men before becoming intoxicated, and thus could continue to buy rounds of drinks until everyone was just out of it enough to give him the information he wanted. It was also rather amusing watching men get drunk.

There were no stools at the bar, or they were all taken, so Brúthor settled for standing up. The only advantage he could think of in this was if there was a brawl, he would be able to get out of the way quicker, but at the moment, though the inn was noisy, there seemed to be no hint of malevolence in the air which was good because it meant all the people were bound to be more welcoming of a stranger.

The bartender came back with his ale, and Brúthor thanked him and gave him an extra tip out of goodwill. Then, taking a long gulp of ale - which was mediocre but not bad - he turned to the man on his right, who was also ordering ale.

"You from around here?" he asked in his best Gondorian accent.

"Aye, I live just the other side of town, yonder," the man, who was dark haired and lean of face, replied, waving his arm to indicate the direction. "Callan's the name."

"Brent," said Brúthor, falling back on his old alias, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"You too," said Callan, shaking his hand with a welcoming smile.

"You lived here long?" Brúthor asked.

"Built me own house," said the man proudly, "Found it hard to get the wood, mind. Had to use the cheap stuff, only good for firewood really. And the dwarves ain't giving us stone, 'cept to the Master because he pays them with our money. But what am I complaining about? It keeps me and the family warm and dry, and that's all we need it for really."

Brúthor sighed wistfully. "It must be wonderful having a family to fill the house."

"Oh it is! Though it's a right pain sometimes," Callan said, suddenly brightening up at a chance to talk about his family "They fill it from top to bottom, they do, almost overflowing it seems sometimes! But that's children for you. The wife's a saint to look after them all. She's the most wonderful person in the world, as patient as stone and as steady as an ox, as beautiful as the lake in the sunrise and still she loves me for all my faults and shortcomings. I just wish I could be at home more often to support her."

"But why can't you?" asked Brúthor.

"It's in the job. I escort merchant wagons for a living," said Callan, "It's tiring work but it pays well."

"Do you visit the wood often?" Brúthor ventured.

"Now and again," replied Callan with a shrug. "More often I go to Dale and Erebor."

"Then you must meet a lot of people on the road," the elf said carefully.

"Aye, sometimes,"

Brúthor leaned in. "I wonder... Have you recently seen an elf on the road between here and Erebor? Travelling alone?"

Callan frowned for a moment, then suddenly his eyes widened. "As a matter of fact I did!" he said in surprise, then he lowered his voice in suspicion, "but what business might you have with a lone elf?"

"Oh, no business," Brúthor said quickly, almost losing the Gondorian accent but rescuing it just in time, "But I saw him on my way here and it didn't seem quite right to me. I wanted to know what he was doing, but you can't exactly go and ask an elf his business, now!" He chuckled for good measure.

Thankfully, the man seemed to be put at ease and chuckled easily with him, sitting back and declaring, "Well no, you can't exactly approach an elf like that! Chances are he'd put an arrow straight through you. The woodland folk may be our allies but I wouldn't trust one personally."

"The majority are trustworthy enough," shrugged Brúthor, feeling duty bound to defend his kindred at least a little, "But that one I saw on the road - definitely not one to trust. Did you see where he seemed to be going?"

"Why would you want to know that?" exclaimed Callan, "I would avoid him at all costs if I were you. But since you ask, I saw him enter the town and I haven't had word of his leaving since. News passes quickly around here. Word is, he's been staying here a while in a house on the east side of town."

"Is that near here?" Brúthor asked, having (intentionally) lost all sense of direction on his way here.

The answer, however, never came because at that moment a bar fight that had been waiting to happen suddenly broke out and a glass flew past inches from Callan's ear causing him to jump in shock and stumble quickly off his stool.

"Duck, Brent!" the man exclaimed, hastily pulling the elf down beside him as a plate sailed over their heads.

It took Brúthor a moment to remember that he was going by that name, and he had in fact been going to catch the plate, but he thanked Callan anyway to the sound of breaking china behind them.

"Best get out of here until it's over," advised Callan, "Prepare to make a run for it!"

"No, I want to know why they're fighting," hissed Brúthor.

The local looked at him as if he had suddenly sprouted wings and tail and was breathing out smoke. Then his expression became resigned and he shrugged.

"If you say so. But I'm out of here."

With that he stood up and disappeared through the throng of people.

Left alone, the elf disguised as a man rose slowly to his feet and peered between people's heads. A ring had formed around a clear area of floor, and in the middle a small mousy haired man was being lifted into the air by a considerably larger and completely bald man with a tattoo just visible above the collar of his thick leather jerkin. The barman was nowhere in sight. Brúthor bit his lip, waiting for the scene to unfold.

"YOU WORTHLESS SCUM!" shouted the tall man, causing the smaller man to screw his eyes shut against the blast of air. "YOU THINK YOU CAN SAY WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT ME?"

Struggling against the tightening hand at his collar, the small, round faced man shook his head. "N-n-no, I didn't say anything about you!" he protested, then let out a cry as his assailant shook him.

"I HEARD YOU TALKING ABOUT ME BEHIND MY BACK," yelled the thug, "I DON'T LIKE BIG MOUTHED GOSSIPS LIKE YOU." Then he suddenly lowered his voice to a murmur, and it was so unexpected and so quiet that even Brúthor's elf ears didn't pick up what he said. In the end, however, it didn't matter, because what happened next made the brute's intentions clear enough.

In the moment it took the victim to breathe, a meaty fist came out of nowhere and struck him hard across the cheek. Blood poured from his nose and the whole tavern seemed to hold its breath as the next blow came down, this time eliciting a whimper of pain from the poor man. Brúthor admired him for having shed no tears so far, but he didn't know how long it would last.

It wasn't as if he hadn't seen this sort of thing before. It happened even in the best taverns, there was no avoiding it. Back in Rohan and Gondor the elf had always kept himself to himself during this sort of occurrence, knowing he could do nothing about it save make it worse - unless, of course, he or his friends were personally involved, which had happened no small number of times and by which means he had learned an entirely new sort of fighting - but many years had passed since then, and he had become a warrior of Mirkwood, trained to keep the peace and carry out justice on any enemies, not to stand on the sidelines and watch. This was an innocent man being unfairly beaten, perhaps even to the death. Brúthor had known it happen, just like this. How could he do nothing this time?

Before he even knew what he was doing, he stepped through the crowd of frightened onlookers and into the circle where the action was happening.

"Stop."

That single, loudly spoken word seemed to break the attacker from his frenzy and he whirled round at the voice that dared question him. Quickly, Brúthor sized up his opponent. They were equals in height, but the man was easily twice as wide as the elf, even without the difference of their clothes. The man's boots were heavy and black, but his arms were bare and showed bulging muscles. He had squint eyes beneath furrowed brows and his nose looked recently broken. Just the type of man, the elf noted, that was too stupid to do anything but use his strength for money in unsavoury ways.

"Leave him alone," said Brúthor with all the authority he had learned from being a guard.

"Oh yeah? And why should I?" said the thug, even as he tossed the unfortunate man to the side like a rag doll and flexed his hands with a grin of anticipation.

"I suggest you leave. Now," said the elf quietly, with venom in his tone.

"Well I suggest you get out of my way," said the man, then laughed loudly as if he had said something funny.

"I would rather not have to hurt you," said Brúthor, the realisation of what he was doing suddenly hitting him. Why on earth had he picked a fight with this guy?

"Too bad," the man grinned like a maniac, taking several steps closer.

The elf of Mirkwood held his ground, refusing to step back. If he could just lead the thug out the door then the innkeeper could always just lock them out...if the innkeeper actually turned up, that was.

As predicted, the thug was the one to throw the first punch, but Brúthor dodged easily. He did not try to hit back, however, for he knew that many badly aimed punches and kicks would have no effect. The elf had experience to say that when fighting people bigger than you it was better to judge hits perfectly or much effort would go to waste.

With some carefully aimed ducks and sidesteps, a few more clumsy swings from the man took him travelling several feet towards the door. The crowd parted to let them through, but the angered man was too focused on chasing the annoying brat that continued to elude him to notice where they were headed. Brúthor noticed that the attempted punches were coming thicker and faster now, and suddenly - but not unexpectedly - the man lurched forward and his hands went straight for the elf's neck.

Brúthor ducked in a flash and rolled under a table as the thick hands closed on thin air. A crash was heard, and before he knew it the man was on the floor beside him, the momentum having carried him further than planned. The savage face turned to him, and snarled almost like an animal, highlighting the crooked and bruised nose in the middle. The only thing to do now was get away as quickly as possible and hope that the enraged laketowner would follow out of wroth, which currently seemed likely. With a taunting grin, the elf backed out the other side of the table then leapt nimbly on top of it.

That was his mistake. Seeing the feet disappear upwards, the usually slow man had quickly made his move and stood up - taking the table with him.

Brúthor felt the solid wooden object shift beneath him, but by the time he realised he needed to jump, it was too late. His reflexes were good, but they weren't enough to defy gravity. All he could do as he fell was twist so as to protect his head, but the impact still came hard on his back and knocked all the air out of him. A great clash and several yells came from behind the man as the table fell backwards and rolled onto its side, but Brúthor payed it no heed. He was staring up at the man whom he had just taunted so confidently, and for the first time he actually felt slightly afraid and wondered whether he would come out of this in one piece after all.

"Never challenge Sodrunn," said the Laketowner, and his voice was soft now and somehow more menacing than when it had been loud. There was a note of madness behind it.

Brúthor gulped and didn't answer back, looking desperately for an escape route. None appeared.

Sodrunn took a slow step forward, clearly relishing the moment. He didn't need to say another word of jest at the man (or so he supposed) on the floor; his grim smile said it all. Bending slowly to kneel over Brúthor, he took a good look at his opponent's face, which refused to betray any emotion save deep dislike. The meaty hand crept slowly towards the fair, beardless face as if going to tilt the chin, but the moment Brúthor judged that it was too close for his liking he rolled to the side out of arm's reach, grabbed the leg of the nearest chair and swung it round as hard as he could.

The man had lurched forward in surprise when the elf rolled away, and was about to drag him back when the wooden stool came hurtling round in a wide arc and caught the man hard around the side of the head. Sodrunn yowled in anger as his cheek began to turn red and swell, but his quarry/assailant was already back on his feet and leaping over tables through the crowd away from him. Being too angered to do anything other than give chase, Sodrunn thudded after the nimble elf, shoving tables and people out of the way as he went, but when he came to the door he found it unexpectedly closed and locked, and his pursuit nowhere to be seen amid the many people.

A thing then happened that had not been expected, nor planned. Out of the crowd, the innkeeper stepped. He was fuming.

"Who is responsible for this mess? Own up, or no more drinks until everyone clears up and someone pays." As he spoke, he glared unwaveringly at Sodrunn and it was clear he knew exactly who was responsible but merely wanted a confession so that compensation might be handed over.

Sodrunn glared, clearly thinking this an injustice, but did not move except for his small deep-set eyes which darted about the room searching out the one who might also be held responsible. In fact, his eyes moved several times over the elf's face, but it was one among many and so the man did not notice it.

Meanwhile, Brúthor was trying to figure out how to get Sodrunn out of the inn without causing more damage. He had enough money to pay for what had already been done, but he feared that the moment he got in Sodrunn's sight the fight would recommence, no matter what price had to be paid afterwards. He could not very well chase the man out since the door was locked and only the innkeeper had the key, but he could not lure him out for the same reason; he could not get out and to ask the innkeeper for the key would be to make himself known. If he could steal it without being seen there was still the problem of unlocking the door: unlocking a door required one to stay still, and with Sodrunn standing right in front of it, doing that would be the equivalent of walking into a trap.

"He's here, the other one that was fighting!" came the yell of a daring person standing directly behind the elf. Brúthor sighed, his cover blown, and allowed himself to be pushed to the front of the crowd.

Immediately Sodrunn roared and lunged at him, but this time Brúthor sidestepped into the innkeeper and allowed the weight of the burly man to carry him forward. While he was next to the innkeeper, Brúthor took his chance.

"Open the door," he muttered, quickly pressed some gold coins into the calloused hand.

The innkeeper gave him a queer look, but pocketed the money and retrieved the keys from his belt, moving over to the door just in time to give Brúthor the space to dodge Sodrunn's next attack. This time, by sticking out his leg, the elf actually managed to trip the man and send him crashing to the floor at the innkeeper's feet. The next moment the door opened, and wasting no time, Brúthor took a leap over his grounded opponent.

He was not expecting, however, for the man to reach up and grab his ankle in the fraction of a second it took to jump. His stomach swooped as he plunged headfirst towards the floor, his ankle held in an iron grip. By twisting, he landed hard on his shoulder rather than his face and was relieved when after a moment's consideration he concluded that he was only bruised and no worse, but he was still on the ground half way out of the door and his ankle was still in Sodrunn's grasp.

It should have been a simple matter of twisting free, but Brúthor was winded from the fall and his opponent was unnaturally strong. Before he could move Sodrunn's arm came up to grab his neck, but by some stroke of luck, good or bad, he missed and instead raked his fingers through Brúthor's long blond hair. The elf twisted, and the piece of twine he had used to tie his hair back snapped in the man's hand, and the hair fell free. Too late, the elf tried to shake the yellow curtain forward to hide his pointed ears, but many people had seen in those few short moments who the strange 'man' actually was.

"He's an elf!"

"An elf in an inn?"

"Why is an elf in Laketown?"

"I bet he's a spy!"

"Aren't elves better at fighting?"

"How much do you bet?"

The whole room was suddenly swamped in a wave of gossiping, and the innkeeper looked startled, suspicious and angry all at once. In all his travels, Brúthor had never once experienced this, and he could feel his heart pounding as if it was trying to break free of his chest, so much was his nervousness.

Most curiously, however, Sodrunn had not immediately seen the elf's pointed ears, but as soon as he heard the outbreak of astonishment he let go of Brúthor as if he were a wild animal with a poisonous bite, stood up and began to back away. He had circumnavigated his opponent during the tackle so that he was nearest the door, and now the man turned and practically fled away up the street.

Confused but deciding against investigation, Brúthor tossed another few coins at the innkeeper then made his hurried exit, not wanting to attract too many questions, which would be inevitable if he stayed in the tavern. Once out in the open he stood for a moment, simply breathing the fresh - though slightly fishy - air and feeling the cold night breeze on his face. It was coming from the west tonight, and if he concentrated hard enough he thought he could smell the faint scent of trees. He wondered where his prince was.

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><p><em>So, has Brúthor's time in the tavern been wasted? Or is there something to be learned from it? And what is Darlan up to?<em>

_Get ready for some answers, and some more questions, and tension building up next chapter! There is a plot happening somewhere! But will they figure out who and what before it is too late?_

_On an unrelated note, for anyone who has watched BotFA and feels like crying over it some more, I wrote a tragic oneshot about Tauriel called "The Art of Not Feeling". Check it out if you want :)_

_There will probably be an update before Christmas, but if there isn't, I wish you all a very Merry Whateveryoucelebrate :)_

_P.S. I'd love to hear what you think, and who you trust, whether you've figured anything out yet or not. Please review and make me a very happy author!_


	9. Chapter 9

_Merry Christmas! Have a chapter with some actual answers in!_

_Just a quick reminder: Arradon is the elf that came to Erebor and Thorin sent a spy after. Darlan is the master's right hand man, who dropped the letter that Legolas sent to Fili and who disappeared after escorting Legolas and Brúthor to the Master. And Mûmak is another word for Oliphaunt._

_Thank you again to Kili the guest, glad you like Brúthor! The action was certainly fun to write :) and thank you for the waffles! They make me happy too :D_

_Enjoy the chapter!_

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><p>In fact, Legolas was not far away. After his guard had left, the Elven prince had spent a few minutes questioning the dwarf, who gave over information surprisingly easily, and found out all that had happened in the north with regard to the strange elf speaking for Laketown. His thoughts were also confirmed that Fili was indeed in Dale, and Kili was away for a short while with the young trainee warriors. Nithi didn't seem to know where, but Legolas guessed well enough.<p>

He was not oblivious to the affections the youngest dwarf prince held for the elf maiden he loved like a sister, and he knew for certain that they were reciprocated in full - but still, a part of him was glad that their respective societies would never allow it to come to anything, for he knew that if it came to it Tauriel would sacrifice her immortality, the mere thought of which pained Legolas more than anything.

The questioning over, Legolas took the lead and the dwarf spy Nithi was more than happy to follow. They backtracked a while along the narrow streets until Nithi disagreed with the route Legolas would have followed, and they knew they must be near the place where the dwarf's tracking had gone astray. There were no tracks to follow, and anyway an elf's light footprints would have been indistinguishable among the trudging of many booted men. Legolas looked grimly around, wishing there were trees that he could learn things from. The stone rarely spoke to him. Nonetheless, he placed his ear to the ground in vain hope.

To his surprise, as his sensitive ear touched the ground, voices seemed to spring out of it. They did not belong to the ground, however, but to people, and were indistinct but Legolas thought he could make out two different ones and possibly a third. But what were voices doing underground?

"Excuse me, your...um...princeness," said the dwarf, "but what are you doing?"

Legolas listened for a moment or two longer, before replying in a whisper, "I'm listening to voices. Can you hear them?"

"No, I can only hear yours," said Nithi bluntly.

"They're underground," replied the elf patiently. "Put your ear to the ground and see if you can hear them."

Nithi obediently did as he was told and put his large round head to the ground. After a while, Legolas asked again if he could hear anything. The dwarf sat up and shook his head.

"I can tell which direction it is coming from, barely," said Legolas, "but whether it's worth investigating is another question."

"I have heard that it is common for men to dig rooms beneath their houses for storage," commented Nithi.

"But this is a new town," Legolas murmured, "which means that..." He trailed off, standing up and gazing down the street.

"Means what?" asked the dwarf.

"It means that most folk won't have had time to dig basements yet, and those who have must have very great need and lots of money. This is something we should investigate," the elf replied. "Follow me."

Lightly forward he sprang, and the dwarf followed after as best he could, though the heavy footfalls were sonorous in the empty night air. Every so often the prince would put his ear to the ground and give the spy a chance to catch up, then choose a new direction and confidently wind his way around the houses packed like a jigsaw puzzle.

Eventually the elf halted abruptly and before the dwarf could catch up he signalled for him to be quiet. The spy approached slowly and on tiptoe, then stood as tall as he could to peer in though the window that had his taller counterpart's attention.

The room inside the house was dark, just as all those around it, and the house seemed wholly unremarkable among the others just the same on all sides. But still, something had caught Legolas's attention, and the fact that in this place the voices could be heard clearly and almost directly underneath was just one thing that exhibited it guiltily. For one thing, at the other side of the room where there were steps going up to the next floor, only dimly visible in the half light, there was also a barely distinguishable square hole with what might have been a ladder poking up through it. Of course, the elf could make these things out clearly and had come to the correct conclusion long ago. This was the house.

"Do we go in?" whispered Nithi, rather too loudly in Legolas' opinion.

"No," he whispered back, shaking his head. "We find a spot where we won't be caught and listen in from up here. Much safer that way."

Nithi put his head to the ground then frowned rather scarily. "I can't make out what they're saying."

"Let me do it," said Legolas. "You keep looking around so we don't get caught."

With that, he lowered the side of his head to the cold earth and this is what he heard:

"...time you had better do the job properly. What use is this on its own?"

"My lord, I brought you what you desired. But he was knocked out so we couldn't question him."

"Yes, knocked out by that fool you call a sidekick no doubt. That imbecile doesn't have the brains to know the difference between a keyhole and a Mûmak's backside. Why you keep him I have no idea."

"His...his strength generally compensates for his lack of...um...intelligence."

"Not this time. This time your little friend has really messed things up - and you know what that's going to cost you?"

"N...n..no, my lord?"

Then Legolas heard a murmur which he couldn't make out the words of, but he was certain the boss was delivering some sort of threat. He did not like this business at all, but as yet he could not discern the connection with the elf Nithi had been following.

"Y...y...yes, my lord!" came the frightened voice of the second man. "I will bring him to you by sunset two days from now!"

"Good," said the voice of the boss. "Now, let's see what our little spy has to say. He has done a much more dangerous task than you, Yarvin, and I dare say he's done a better job of it. You may leave now. Arradon, what news from the Mountain?"

"Good news, Lord," said Arradon, and with a jolt Legolas heard the undoubtedly elvish voice. He knew for certain who was now speaking.

"Will the Mountain consider listening to an envoy from Laketown?"

"Indeed, he will listen more than he did to me. Now that the King Under the Mountain knows our supposed purpose, he will not be surprised to receive the governor of Laketown and his guards and counsellors. He is curious - indeed, he sent a spy to follow me but I shook that idiot long before I got here."

"Very well. And what do you know of the princes? For Yarvin here was supposed to find the crown prince in Dale and yet managed to follow him and ambush him on the road to Northern Mirkwood. How do you read that?"

There was a long pause, and Legolas pricked up his ears. This news he could piece together well enough, but he was anxious to hear Arradon's picture of things, because as far as he could tell, his dwarven friends were in danger.

"I think, my lord..." said the traitor elf slowly, "that the Mountain must have some sort of dealings with Thranduil. I believe this is likely."

There was a pensive pause in the speech, before the leader spoke again.

"And what of the second prince? Is he the keeper of any secrets, do you deem?"

"He was not in Erebor when I was there, Lord. But from rumours I have heard, he will know just as much as the crown prince."

"Is there then a chance that he carries the key?"

"I do not think so. The exact words, if you remember, were '_the King of Erebor entrusts his dearest possession to his most noble kin'_. It is clear what his dearest possession is, and who would he trust more than the first in line to his throne?"

"Then this is it. At least Yarvin has not failed there. Now it is certain that my second letter to Edren was more perceiving than I first thought, though what became of it when the idiot got himself caught I do not know. Whatever that Mûmak-headed manipulator may have got from it, if anything, doesn't matter now. But as for the information we need, that will have to wait until -"

Legolas' eavesdropping was cut off abruptly as Nithi shoved his shoulder hard. He was on the point of a hushed exclamation of annoyance, when he heard the back door shutting. It seemed that Yarvin was finally leaving the house. The elf prince sprang up onto tiptoe and moved silently towards the noise, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man who was carrying out the dirty deeds. It was too dark for even an elf to make out much, but Legolas saw just a silhouette crossing the narrow street. Unfortunately for him, the man seemed completely unremarkable, with nothing that could distinguish him at all. Unless he tracked the man until daylight, he would never know what he looked like or be able to recognise him again.

Once the silhouette was out of sight, Legolas returned to Nithi.

"Did you see him?" whispered the dwarf.

"Yes, but I couldn't make out much in the dark," replied the Elven prince, putting his head back to the ground to listen in again.

The sound of speech reached his ears once more and the first voice he heard was unmistakably that of Arradon.

"- done, Lord. He has cast a blind eye thus far, but soon this town will call for new leadership and then nothing must stand in the way."

"Indeed. You may go now, Arradon, and make sure you do it well."

There was the sound of a door closing, and Legolas turned quickly to Nithi, glad for the first time that the dwarf was with him.

"Listen, spy. Your King was right to send you; there are bad deeds here waiting to happen, indeed, some may have already happened." And then he summarised as well as time allowed all that he had heard. "The elf will exit any minute and I will follow him, but you may not be able to keep up or keep unseen. Take this information back to the Mountain with all haste and I will send any further information I find to your King by way of raven. Go now, quickly. Your princes are in danger."

Nithi gave one determined nod, then turned on his heel and disappeared down the street in front of the house. At almost the same moment, Arradon the traitor elf exited from the back door and crossed the street the same way that the first man had done. For a brief moment Legolas considered going into the house and challenging the leader, but something told him that there was another behind all this, working through other people, and so he gave his attention to the more pressing matter, which was what this elf might do if left to carry out his task.

Running through the streets on fleet and silent feet, the prince of Eryn Lasgalen was hard pressed to see anything in the dark, even with his perfect elven eyesight. But he was swift, and the shadow he was following never strayed so far ahead as to get lost from sight or sound. In and out of the houses they swerved, and soon Legolas had lost all sense of direction, but still they did not stop. It was as they crossed a wider road and disappeared into the pressing darkness on the other side that he suddenly felt that he had recognised the place for a split second - but it was over too quickly and they were moving too fast for him to dwell long on it.

And then, all at once, he knew where they were. The crashing revelation brought him stumbling up short, which was just as well, for otherwise he might have run on into the courtyard and been seen at that very moment when Arradon turned around.

"Dwarf!" hissed the traitorous elf in a loud whisper, "Dwarf! Where are you?"

For a moment, Legolas was startled by the thought that Nithi had himself been a traitor, but when a short, stout figure emerged from the stables on the left hand side, reluctantly it seemed, Legolas breathed a sigh of relief because even in the dark this dwarf was clearly not his partner in investigations. It was the dwarf he had spoken to after leaving the Master's mansion - the back of which now faced him - who had refused to answer any of his questions clearly but had been the one to lead away their horses when the elves first arrived.

The dwarf stomped forward unhurriedly and drew something from his pocket. Arradon snatched it from him as he held it out and shoved it unceremoniously into the lock. The door swung open, and the dwarf retreated quickly to the shadows while the elf stepped inside, locking the door behind him. As soon as the courtyard was cleared, Legolas sprang forward to the door and tried the handle, but as expected it was no use. The door was locked against him, and he could not get in that way. Instinctively, though, he knew that he had to follow by some means. It was against both his nature and his training to leave a dangerous person such as this to their own devices

The front door was bound to be locked. He checked it just in case, but his guess proved to be right. A quick circuit of the building showed that there were no open windows on any floor, except for one on the second level up which was too small for anything larger than a cat to fit through. Legolas knew he shouldn't give up so easily, but he was positively stuck for ideas. The dwarf who had provided Arradon with the key was nowhere in sight.

Breaking a window was out of the question. Making himself a criminal in order to pursue a criminal was not something he would risk, and glass was expensive.

Then again, he was a prince; King Thranduil would not allow financial problems to get in the way of people's safety, and this might be a life and death situation...

Another quick assessment showed that the windows in the front of the mansion were greater by far than the windows at the back, presumably as a show of wealth and power. That meant breaking in at the front, in clear view of the whole town square, but it was still so dark that Legolas decided it was worth the risk. The ground floor had no windows, but the first floor had many so it was a simple matter of lifting oneself to the window sill and clambering up. This he did, quite easily, and sat there a moment trying to see what sort of room he was entering. The pitch blackness, however, did not aid his eyes in the slightest and no memory from his previous entry could help him. He would have to go in blind.

Breaking the glass proved to be easier than expected, not least because it was thin and poor quality, more for show than for actually looking out of. Using the hilt of his knife for the impact, Legolas sustained only a minor cut which he quickly staunched on the edge of his sleeve. Then, without knowing what he was walking into, he slipped silently inside.

Now only a glimmer of starlight between clouds lit the bare room: for that was what it was. Completely devoid of anything save now broken shards of glass, the Master clearly hadn't had any plans for this empty space; and if he had, then they hadn't come to fruition. More likely, Legolas guessed, was that he didn't need half the space this mansion provided and so left most of it bare.

There was a door in the opposite wall, which the elf hoped led to the staircase; he made his way across the room hurriedly, but suddenly stopped when he felt something snag his shoe. Bending down to examine it, he found to his surprise a notch in the floor large enough for a couple of fingers, and when he tried it the floorboards came away easily as one small trap door. Through it Legolas could see nothing, as there were no windows on the ground floor, but he supposed it was a room rather like this one, or else some sort of cellar. What use the Master could have for a trap door, though, the elf had no idea. It just hardened his suspicions that there was something not quite right around here.

With that thought, he sprang up, letting the trap door fall closed, and sprinted to the door. Now was not the time for secret investigations; there was a dangerous elf on the loose. To his immense relief the door was unlocked and did lead to the stairs, which he went up two at a time, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

The door which led to the large room in which Legolas had met the Master of Laketown that very day was ajar, so without hesitation the elf slipped through it. The door creaked slightly as he passed it and he bit back a Dwarven curse that threatened to escape his lips. Then he had to hold in a laugh as he realised that it had been the first word to come to mind, and resolved not to tell his father.

The room was as grand and spacious as ever, though the darkness made it look less grand and more spacious, and by the speckled starlight that drifted in through the wall-sized window Legolas saw that he was the only being in the room. The silence was pressing on his ears, and each of his almost soundless footsteps sounded like the felling of a great tree. He stood absolutely still, listening. Then, seemingly loud in the dead quiet of night, he heard the scrape of wood. It came not from behind the grandest door, which was where Legolas presumed the Master slept, but from the room behind a small, unadorned door which all but the most observant eye would simply pass over.

Legolas sprinted over to the door, desperate not to be too late, certain now that he had caught the traitor elf. Unless he had a way of opening the window, Arradon would have no escape. The prince burst through the door, hands on the long knives hidden at his belt, ready to meet resistance -

- and stopped short. His expression transformed in an instant from determination to a look of horror. There, right in front of him on the bed, was the Master's right hand man, the very one who had come to the Elvenking's palace, escorted Legolas and Brúthor into the mansion, and been highest on their suspicion lists. His eyes were closed as if sleeping, but the dark blood pooling around his chest spoke differently. Arradon was nowhere to be seen, but piercing the wily man's heart was a single elven arrow.

A clatter sounded in the next door room, but for once in his life Legolas was frozen still. He could not take in what he was seeing. He could not work out what had just happened. Then, a sleepy voice sounded from the other side of the door.

"Darlan? Is that you?" There was an audible yawn. "I thought I heard some noises but I might have been dreaming..."

The door swung slowly open.

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><p><em>Dun dun dun! Framed! But if Darlan isn't plotting all this, who is? What was the letter he dropped? Who is the thug who knocked out Fili? What is this key, and why do they think Fili has it? Will Nithi's warning reach Erebor in time? What will Legolas do now?<em>

_Please drop a review :)_


	10. Chapter 10

_Hope you all had a great Christmas and ate plenty of food! I am extremely happy because I asked for Hobbit lego, expecting a character or two, and I got THE ENTIRE COMPANY! Love you mum :D_

_Glad I managed to confuse a few of you last chapter! Come on, who actually expected Darlan to die? I didn't, for one ;)_

_Kili the guest: pleeeease get an account so I can message you! Thanks for the chocolate, all food is much appreciated and I am getting to work on the next chapter straight away :)_

_Okay so this isn't a proper chapter. It's a challenge. Confused already? Read on and all will be explained. Muahahahaaa!_

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><p>As dawn approached, Ori thought he might finally be getting somewhere. It had taken a while to get started, as always, but now he was certain the cypher was nearly cracked. Working solidly ever since Fili had given him the task had certainly paid off - in fact, his competitive streak had come out as he strove to solve the puzzle as quickly as possible. It didn't matter that his head was now nearly on the desk, or that his eyes kept shutting of their own accord. He had stayed up much longer than this before and been fine. He could keep going...he was nearly there...nearly...there...<p>

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><p><em>Here is what the letter says, with a much simpler cypher rule applied to it. Solve it if you can, and the answer will be revealed in the next chapter! I don't know what to offer as an incentive, so anyone who manages to work it out and sends me the answer as a reviewPM gets one wish from the fairy that I will try my hardest to grant! Happy solving :)_

**Ont wahy tuo rac emoimttde ot htsi, m iya idcsoles uftrehd rteiasl fo htt esaa, kp sorimesp. Dyaemtn iwll eb sa idcssuesw, dtia h mslaa lddtioians laher ni rpfotii, sa fyn. Niofmrtaoih nsa ercaehm dt eaht teh leedts rpniec ohdlw sahi t eske nas di oi th st eahi t iwhs ot eb rbuohgt tm oi. E elvat eeh emhtdof sert ey ouod rsircteoib, ntu eh umts eb lavia edn bael ot atkl. Onhtnio gh nsi epsrno hsuodl eb otcuehs, dvaw eaeopsn fi enecssraw. Yroi dt sahh tw elib li ed nlat. Eihm ssub td enow etiiht neh omtno hi r iwll accnle uoa rrgeeemtn nae dsnrut eahy tuo ras elineecd.**

_Hint 1: there is a general rule applied to the whole text. This might be shifting the alphabet, reversing the order of words, inserting extra letters at regular intervals, replacing certain letters with others, practically anything that would look like nonsense at first glance but make sense to someone who knew the rule. So it's not random, I promise!_

_Hint 2: start simple, by looking at letters that crop up a lot (for example, 'e' is the most common letter in the english language) and the shortest words. Look for repeated words as well. Try to spot patterns._

_Hint 3: ask me for help and I'll give you one word for free :)_


	11. Chapter 11

_It's just a short teaser chapter today, since I get the impression that you all need a little extra time to work on the code ;) the answer will be next chapter, but I'm feeling generous so for those people who haven't already got it (which seems to be everyone except GwyneddSilverfighter, congratulations to you) here is a rather big helping hand: anyway=nawyya. Good luck :)_

_Enjoy the mini-chapter!_

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><p>The cold morning sun filtered through the long shaft into Kili's royal bedroom and the dwarf moaned in his sleep before rolling over, planting his face firmly into the pillow in an attempt to block out the light. At that moment, a sharp rap came on the heavy wooden door.<p>

"What is it?" called Kili, then when there was no reply he removed his face from the pillow and repeated the question.

"The King says you are travelling to Dale today. A pony has been prepared," came the answering voice.

Kili moaned again and swung his legs reluctantly out of bed. "Tell them I'm coming."

He did not listen to the reply but flopped back onto the bed sideways, wishing that he could have a few hours more sleep. He had arrived back from Mirkwood barely an hour before, and returned his pony to the stables himself upon finding (unsurprisingly) that young Svîur was no longer waiting outside. He just hoped that the pony he was borrowing this time was not the poor beast that he had ridden to the wood and back last night.

Less than half an hour later he was standing outside with a small group of dwarves, smartly dressed in the royal gear for short journeys and trying to ignore his stomach rumbling. Thorin stood in front of him, briefing him on Fili's duties which he was taking over and the plans for the building of Dale. Behind him stood twenty dwarven stone masons and six carts, filled with Erebor stone - the first delivery of many.

To Kili's disappointment, Fili was nowhere to be seen. The youngest Durin refused to believe that his brother was avoiding him on purpose due to their argument last night, but a part of him still wondered. All through Thorin's lecture he kept glancing up the mountain, wishing that a golden haired figure would emerge from it, but only Dwalin was there, saddling up ponies with a small group of warriors, on his way to collect the cadets from the outpost in Mirkwood. For a moment Kili's mind wandered to Tauriel, and he wondered how she was doing. He was brought back to the present abruptly by Thorin's stern voice.

"Kili? Have you remembered all that?"

"Yes!" replied Kili automatically, then taking in his uncle's dubious expression he added, "Yes, sir!"

A small smile twitched at the corner of the Dwarf King's mouth and he reached forward to place his hand on his nephew's shoulder.

"Be safe," he said simply.

Kili grinned. "You know me. Would I ever put myself in danger if I didn't absolutely have to?"

"Not on purpose," replied Thorin with a raised eyebrow, but then he relaxed. "You are only going to Dale. I shouldn't have to worry about you any more than I do your brother."

"I'll try to make you proud," promised Kili with a smile. Then he turned and swung himself into the saddle of his pony, giving a signal to the other dwarves that they were setting off.

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><p>Thorin watched the convoy trail away like a long snake, keeping a particular eye on his nephew at the head. He would always be proud of both his nephews, no matter how many mistakes they made. This particular mistake annoyed him more than usual because it was, in his view, endangering the already tentative relation the Mountain had with the Elves, but at least he could trust Dwalin to sort it out with minimal trouble. He glanced over to his old friend and managed to catch the warrior's eye. They shared a nod, before Dwalin turned away back to his dwarves. Deciding there was nothing left to do out here, the King under the Mountain strode back inside.<p>

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><p>Fili was awakened by a sharp rap on the door. He moaned, but rolled over and sat up in bed rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Then he noticed how light it was.<p>

In an instant he was out of his bed, pulling on clothes and calling to the person outside the door, "What time is it? Why was I not awakened earlier?"

"It is two full hours past the dawn," came the reply, "and you were not wakened because you do not have duties until past noon. But now his majesty the King thinks that it is high time you got up anyway."

"Time! Time!" exclaimed Fili, "How long ago did my brother leave? Have I missed him altogether?"

"He left less than an hour after the dawn," replied the servant.

"Then it is too late!" said the prince, ready to bash his head on his stone walls, "He will go to Dale certain that I am still angry with him! Oh, I wish I'd been up earlier. How long before he returns?"

"Five days, if all goes well."

"Too long!" groaned Fili, "I shall have to send him a raven. But even that seems inadequate. Thank you, whoever you are. Tell my uncle that I am awake."

"As you wish, your highness," came the reply, then there was the sound of footsteps retreating down the corridor.

Fili groaned and banged his head on the wall.


	12. Chapter 12

_Yay! The day has finally come! STUFF HAPPENS!_

_Thank you to the lovely Kili the guest for always brightening up my day with your reviews :D if I don't mention you every chapter after this, don't think it means I don't love you! But since I don't really exist on the internet apart from here, I'm not sure how I could reply to your reviews properly :( just know that you're invaluable to my writing and my happiness :)_

_I should probably mention that for this story, the Master survived the burning of Laketown (obviously) but Alfrid didn't (hence the - temporary - existence of Darlan) just in case anyone was wondering._

_Enjoy the chapter!_

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><p>Three and a half hours later, Ori's eyes fluttered sleepily open. His brows drew together for a moment as he tried to remember why he was sleeping in the library. Then with a jolt that brought his head snapping upwards and his eyes snapping wide open, he remembered. His eyes fixed on the paper in front of him. His ear had smudged some of the ink, and some of the letters were not filled in, but the message was now legible:<p>

**E_ren,**

**Now that you are committed to this, I may _isclose further _etails of the task, as _romise_. _ayment will be as _iscussed, with a small a_itional share in _rofits, if any. Information has reached me that the el_est _rince hol_s what I seek and so it is he that I wish to be brought to me. I leave the methods free to your _iscretion, but he must be ali_e and able to talk. Nothing on his _erson shoul_ be touched, save wea_ons if necessary. Wor_ is that he will be in _ale. This must be _one within the month or I will cancel our agreement and ensure that you are silence_.**

At the bottom was an illegible signature, followed by a symbol of some sort that wasn't part of the code. Ori stared at the page for several long moments, his still half-asleep brain taking in the words that he had been too tired to comprehend last night. This news was completely and utterly...Ori himself couldn't put a word on it. It was either exceedingly lucky and just in the nick of time, or just too late. One thing was clear though: he needed to tell Fili first.

As he sprinted faster than he had since the company ran from wolves across the plains to Rivendell, he wondered how long he had overslept. The light streaming through shafts into the library had been bright. If only he hadn't worked so late! Then he might have woken up on time and seen the message sooner. Fili needed to know about this as soon as possible.

The main hub was emptier than usual, as most of the dwarves in the mountain were already busy at work, but Ori still had to dodge a few indignant inhabitants muttering profuse apologies all the while. Fili was not anywhere on the main levels, so on a whim Ori took the long winding stairs down to the forge, wondering if the prince might be occupying himself there.

As soon as the scribe and scholar stepped through the great double doors into the forge, a blast of heat hit him full in the face and he reeled, coughing. As he grew accustomed to the temperature enough to bear it, he straightened back up and took a look around. The noise bombarded his ears and his sight was hindered slightly by the steam, but he spotted Fili almost immediately. The prince was wearing an old pair of tough leather trousers and no top, and he was working at an anvil, hammering something with heavy but precise blows. Ori hurried over to him.

"Fili?" he said, but could not even hear his own voice over the din, so he tried again. "FILI!"

The prince turned and almost jumped in surprise to see Ori in such a place as the forge, but quickly put down the equipment and followed his friend out of the massive hall. The double doors clanged shut behind them and the noise was diminished to a background clanging rather than an assault on the senses.

Ori was about to tell Fili on the spot there and then but the prince suddenly looked around, then beckoned the scribe down a dark passage that he hadn't noticed before. The further they made their way, the more cobwebs and dust tickled their noses, but Fili kept going until they saw a dim light at the end of the tunnel. The light from a deep shaft glimmered faintly down, and it was this they stopped under.

"You cracked the code and read the letter?" Fili asked as soon as they came to a halt, his voice leaving no echo amid the thick grime all around and Ori suddenly understood that they had come here in order not to be overheard.

He nodded fervently. "It's worse than either of us thought. It's part of a plot to kidnap you!"

"Let me see," said Fili urgently, and Ori handed over the deciphered version of the letter immediately. Fili's eyes scanned over it and slowly widened in horror. When he finished he looked up at his friend. "You know what this means."

Ori nodded. "It means Kili is in danger. Either he will be mistaken for you and taken, or simply kidnapped in your stead when you don't turn up."

Fili clenched his teeth and started pacing, his hands curling automatically into fists. "I can't warn him before he gets to Dale, he's too far ahead. He's probably there by now. For all we know he could be kidnapped by now!" The usually calmer prince slammed his fist into the wall, sending down a shower of dust and spiders.

"Something else is also bothering you," observed Ori.

"I had an argument with Kili last night and I never got to apologise before he left," admitted Fili with a sigh, collecting himself again, "But never mind that. I suppose the only thing to do is to tell Thorin."

Ori nodded. "It's the only thing we can do. It would be stupid to sneak out and try to take on the criminals yourself."

Fili lifted his head a bit. "That's actually -"

"No," said Ori firmly. "Come on, there's no time to lose."

The two of them made their way stealthily out of the forgotten tunnel and broke into a run as soon as they were past the forge. Though Ori was panting by the time they reached the final flight of stairs to the throne room, they never slowed down. Fili burst through the door at a sprint and flew across the room to skid to a halt mere feet before his uncle, dozing lightly in his throne of gold. Ori came to a stop beside him.

"Uncle!" cried Fili, and the oldest dwarf jerked his head up with a start, his eyes blinking open and taking in Fili's appearance.

The King looked tired. There were deep bags under his eyes and though his hair was as immaculate as ever, Fili noticed that his lengthening beard was unbraided, an unusual sight in the past half-year. He straightened, however, when he saw his nephew standing so urgently in front of him dressed for work in a forge.

"This letter came from Prince Legolas of Mirkwood yesterday and Ori just finished decoding it. You must read it!" Fili blurted out, holding out the deciphered version of the message to Thorin, who took it.

The Dwarven King's brows grew more and more furrowed as he read, and when he finished he looked up at Ori.

"Let me see the original," he said sternly.

The scribe brought it out and, rather timidly, handed it over. The King glanced over it, comparing it to the transcribed version. Then he looked back up.

"Well, I think it is clear that whoever plans to kidnap you, Fili, will not succeed, since you are here. But still, I would keep you by my side for a day or two, just in case," said Thorin calmly.

The crown prince frowned. "But what about Kili?"

"What about him?" Thorin raised his eyebrows.

"Well, if I'm not in Dale then won't the kidnappers take him instead?"

"Amongst all those dwarves and men? I think not," replied Thorin, "And your brother can defend himself if he needs to. Do not worry yourself over him, Fili. He will be fine."

"But shouldn't he at least know about this?" pleaded Thorin's eldest nephew.

"Of course. I will send a raven immediately," replied the King, rising from his seat. "I shall not take long if you would wait here for me, Fili."

The tall dwarf strode quickly across the stone hall and was soon gone. Fili and Ori looked at each other.

"I should have gone myself," said Fili, shaking his head.

"No, the King is right," said Ori resignedly, "Kili can take out the criminals himself if he needs to. As long as he's on his guard he'll be fine."

Fili swallowed. "I suppose you're both right. Maybe I am overreacting."

Ori smiled. "It's only natural. Believe me, you're nowhere near as bad as Dori."

* * *

><p>Legolas sat gloomily in a cell beneath the Master's house, wondering how he had walked so neatly into such a trap, intentionally lain or not.<p>

It couldn't have been put in place intentionally, since he was certain Arradon hadn't known he was there.

That meant he just had the worst luck in all of Arda.

He could have escaped easily. He could have run out of the building as soon as the Master turned up, could have fought the five feeble men who came at the Master's call to arrest him (though how the message had reached them so fast in the middle of the night, Legolas had no idea), could have escaped at almost any time had he so wished, but no. The connections between the Wood and the Lake were on the line.

When he had been brought before the square at dawn to answer to the people of Laketown, Legolas had been humiliated. Even if he could be proved innocent, the locals would long remember the day when the crown prince of Mirkwood was accused of murdering their leader's right hand man. Brúthor, he knew, believed him to be innocent, though the two elves had not talked; the prince had caught his guard's eye in the crowd and that had been enough to convey their thoughts on the matter. Still, at that point Legolas had wished for some sort of sign language such as the dwarves had, so that he could explain things more clearly and give Brúthor instructions.

Now he was stuck in a cell with no contact with his comrade at all. Would Brúthor go back to the Greenwood and explain everything to the King? Legolas dreaded his father's reaction, but he knew there was little other option. There was no way, short of capturing Arradon, of proving his innocence and arguing was no good since all the signs spoke against him. A smashed window, an elvish arrow, and he himself on the very scene of the crime. The only way he would get out, Legolas feared, was by way of his father's money. That could take a long time to arrange.

He amused himself for a while by drawing leaves on the dirt floor with his fingernail, until he got bored and switched to drawing trees. He started making up rules for how the branches of each tree would split, and found himself with a rather interesting pattern of triangles. Then when there was no space left on the floor he began drumming his fingers on the hard stone wall in an irregular pattern and wished he was more talented at music.

After a while he stopped and listened. Now the general bustle of the day had begun and he found he could hear not just noise from the square, but clear conversations. They weren't very interesting, so he started to tune out, but just then the sound of a raven's caw met his ears. Something was off about it though, and it took him a moment before he realised that it wasn't a raven. Someone was imitating a raven's caw, and doing it rather well.

He listened hard now. Anyone using animal noises to communicate had to be doing something they didn't want other people to know about. It was not long before the caw came again, and this time Legolas realised that it sounded questioning. In fact, it sounded just like a raven did when asking for a message.

Pressing his ear to the wall to listen, Legolas heard the caw right outside his cell. Whoever it was was standing just the other side of the wall. Perhaps they were trying to communicate with one of the prisoners here? There were only a few; Legolas had seen a couple of men and that was all. What cause would any of them have to communicate?

Then came another call, which Legolas knew immediately. It was an imitation of the call of a nuthatch, a bird which had been quite common in the forest until the darkness from Dol Guldur had overrun the warmer parts of the wood in which it lived, and it was a call that the guard had brought into use as a communication of stealth because of the way it could be varied for different meanings while still blending in with the general background noise of the trees and the birds. Legolas hadn't dared hope before, but now he knew for certain that it was indeed Brúthor outside. His spirits soared higher than they had done for what felt like ages, and he pursed his lips to give a little whistle back. _I'm here._

A hoarse call answered: _waiting for orders_.

_Retreat_, Legolas whistled, then after a pause, _Report. Return_. He hoped his message had been understood.

There was a slightly long pause, before the clear call came back, echoing exactly what the prince had just conveyed in the proper way of showing that one had understood. Then there were no more sounds.

Legolas slid down the wall to sit cross-legged on the patterned dirt floor, a great weight lifted from his mind. Now he no longer had to worry about what was going to happen to him; he knew Brúthor would sort it out. Of course, the matter of Arradon still went unresolved, but there was nothing he could do about that until he got out and perhaps his father would know more about the wayward elf which could help in his pursuit.

Nothing left for him to do, the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen began to drift off into a sleep trance, until a loud voice sounded from down the corridor.

"Hey! Elf!"

He moved to the bars of the cell and looked out. Across the dim passageway was another cell, and this one held a man. The one next to it, further away from Legolas, also was occupied. As far as he could tell, these were the only other people in the dungeons. Since it looked like he was stuck here until his father arrived, which could be several days time, Legolas decided it would be better to appease his inmates from the start.

"Yes? You called?" he replied.

One man jeered. "Look how it holds itself. Above us all are ya, Elf? Think yer royalty do ya, Elf?"

The other one laughed along. "Just wait until ye've spent a coupl'a weeks in 'ere, ye'll be grovelling just like us."

Legolas didn't reply, but fixed them men with the utmost look of disdain. They were taken aback for a moment, but then one spoke again.

"What I want to know is, why is it in 'ere for starters? Not like an elf to get caught. Must be a coward or a weakling."

"Go on then Elf? Why ya in here?"

Legolas was on the point of turning his nose up and walking away, when the memory of something he'd overheard while eavesdropping suddenly came to him: _"Though what became of it when that idiot got himself caught I do not know."_

He turned curiously to the two men and said, "I think some introductions are in order first. I still do not know your names."

"I'm Roren, and he's Edren," said one of them, "We're cousins."

"And you were caught for different crimes?" asked the elf.

"Nah, I dragged him into it an' we were both caught," said Edren, "But yer avoiding the question. Why ya in here?"

Legolas faked a mysterious smile and said, "I will tell you my story once you have told me yours."

Edren scowled. "Our business is none of your business."

"Well then my business is none of yours either," replied Legolas calmly. "An exchange of information to stave off the boredom is all I ask for."

Both men frowned, and Roren looked to Edren, before Edren said, "Fine. I will tell our story as long as you tell yours after."

"It's a deal," said Legolas, lowering himself to the floor as comfortably as possible, preparing to listen.

With that, Edren began to talk.

"Before the Dragon came, our families were rich. We were in the Master's favour and attended all the banquets. Our fathers were councillors, you see, and Alfrid was our second cousin once removed, but then the Dragon came and suddenly, like everyone else, we had nothing. Through loyalty the Master has been able to build back up his riches and power, though it's nothing like what it used to be, but we did not want to go back into service, since it's clear that the Master is growing old and unpopular and we don't like Darlan one bit. There was a man who said he could get us rich. He said...wait, should I be telling this bit?"

The two men lowered their voices to talk, clearly oblivious to the fact that Legolas, as an elf, could hear every word.

"He said it's top secret."

"Yeah but it'll be done by now, if the plan worked. What harm can it do?"

"But what if he tells and it all fails?"

"Look, where is he going? He's locked up like us. Plus, it's not as if we care about what happens any more, we're not getting any money out of it. And he's an Elf."

"So what?"

"So elves hate dwarves, right? He'll probably side with us."

"If you're sure..."

"I'm sure."

Edren raised his voice again to continue his story.

"We've decided we can tell you, as long as you swear to keep this top secret."

"I swear I won't tell anybody who doesn't know about it," said Legolas immediately.

"Good. Now there was this man who said he knew how to get gold from the Dwarves because they were rich and selfish, but he needed us for his plan. He wanted to keep a secret profile so instead of meeting with him he wrote me coded letters. I had the second of them on me when we were caught and Darlan took it, but he's too stupid to even figure out that it's a code. He'll just see a load of dwarf runes."

The two men burst out laughing, and Legolas suddenly knew the subject of the letter he had sent by raven to Fili. He now hoped more than ever that the dwarves had been able to figure out its content.

"Why dwarf runes?" asked the Elf, "Why not just any symbols?"

"The boss thought it'd be ironic," chuckled Roren, "Since our task was to kidnap the dwarf prince."

"Kidnap?" exclaimed Legolas, pretending to be surprised, though really he was just worried about what they had just said: _"It'll be done by now, if the plan worked"_. "But dwarves are dangerous warriors! How are you supposed to kidnap one of them?"

Edren winked. "That's top secret. But that's only the first part of the plan. Apparently the dwarf prince has something which will help the Boss get more gold from the Mountain. Then, once that's done, he ransoms him back. Neat, right?"

"Yes, it sounds like he knows what he's doing," said Legolas with a pensive frown. "When was this supposed to happen?"

"We never got that far," said Edren gloomily, "Got shut up in here before the final plans were made. Could have been three days ago, could be happening right now."

"But where in Middle Earth is it safe enough to hold a prisoner when the King under the Mountain himself will be looking for him?"

"Aha, but that's easy!" exclaimed the man, "For one thing, the prince'll be in Dale so it'll be ages before the dwarves have any notion he's missing, and if you've ever been to Dale you'll know it's a confusing place to get lost in. Believe me, there are plenty of places you can hold a prisoner there and never be questioned."

"Indeed. But though you have told me your story in detail, you have missed the part in which you get captured," said Legolas.

Edren frowned. "So I have. Well, that's easy enough to tell. The Boss got word at the last minute that Darlan was going to Mirkwood to wrangle some more money, but he thought it would put his plan in danger to have elves - wait a minute," he stopped abruptly and stared at Legolas. "You're not working for the Elvenking are you?"

It was all Legolas could do not to burst out in uncontrollable laughter there and then. But he composed himself with an amused smile and said, "Well you might have considered that before you started telling your story. May I finish it for you?" The men gaped, so the elf continued, "You were sent to stop Darlan from potentially bringing elves to Laketown but failed and he locked you up and took the letter before going on his way. Is that how the story ends?"

Edren nodded slowly, still gaping.

Suddenly, Legolas had an idea. "As a matter of fact," he said, "Your secret is safe with me because I too am working for the Boss. My name is Arradon."

All at once Edren relaxed and sprang up in eagerness. Roren looked at him in confusion.

"You're the Elf?" exclaimed Edren.

"I am an elf," frowned Legolas.

"But you're _the_ elf that is working for the Boss? The one loyal one?" Edren persisted.

"Well...yes, I am," said Legolas decidedly, "but I was caught just after I killed Darlan."

"You killed Darlan?" exclaimed Roren, "But that's brilliant news!"

"No it's not, not if I'm still in here when the dwarf is captured," said Legolas, "I'm needed for the next part of the plan. And if you help me get out of here, I will make sure you get some of the end reward."

Now the men looked greedily excited. "What do we have to do?" asked Edren.

Legolas went over his thoughts for a moment, considering whether this was the best thing to do. Escaping now would only lead to more trouble for himself, but Fili was in more danger than he had first realised and if the dwarves couldn't read the coded letter then who could help him?

"How often do they bring food?" he asked.

"Twice a day at most," replied Roren, "but we haven't been fed yet this morning so it could be at any time now."

"And does the person who brings it have the keys?" asked Legolas.

"Yeah, just to taunt us," grumbled Edren, "but they're on a belt, it's impossible to get them off without being caught."

"Leave that bit to me," said Legolas, "Just make sure that when he's right in front of my bars, he turns away for a moment."

"That'll be easy," said Roren.

"Good," said Legolas, "Now we wait."

* * *

><p>It was almost midday before Kili had a moment to himself in which to eat breakfast. As soon as he had arrived in Dale he had been bombarded by Dale residents from all directions and it had taken Bard five minutes of shouting before they had all cleared off. Then there had been a long discussion with the King of Dale that had lasted close on an hour, before the stone masons were finally set to work.<p>

Now Kili sat alone on a wooden fence on the Erebor side of the city, looking towards his home. The mountain looked small from here, and from this distance no one would ever guess what a hive of activity it was inside. He wondered what Fili was doing at this moment.

The scuffle of a stone behind him made him twist round to look - too fast. He slipped from the fence and fell to the floor, landing flat on his back. The air was knocked out of him, but it was better than what would have befallen him otherwise because at that moment the fist that had been aiming for the top of his head smacked down on the wooden railing he had been sitting on mere seconds before. Two men stood there, a burly one and a smaller but still quite large one, glaring at him with menace in their eyes. One of them drew a knife and began to step over the fence.

Kili backed away on his elbows, rolling over and scrambling to his feet while at the same time drawing out the one knife that he had brought, wishing that he had his bow or at least a sword.

For a few seconds he considered running. But where would he run? His route back to populated Dale was blocked, and behind him the road stretched out for miles before it reached the mountain. These longer-legged men would catch him in an instant. No, fighting was the only option.

As the men began to approach him, separating so as to trap him between them, Kili paced slowly to the side, keeping them from coming round behind him. He was trying to judge which one would attack first, and at that moment he would have put money on the taller one. He was right. The hefty man, who had also been the one to draw his knife first, charged at Kili with his head down and arm outstretched, but Kili easily ducked and stretched his leg out, tripping his attacker.

"You idiot Sodrunn! I told you to wait until I gave the command!" hissed the other man as he saw his comrade on the floor.

While both men were distracted, Kili surged forward at the smaller man and their knives clashed together. They glared at each other for a moment, but the dwarf was both stronger and more experienced and with a twist he sent the man's knife clattering to the ground. The man sprang back, but Kili whirled round not a moment too soon to deflect a heavy blow from Sodrunn which sent him staggering backwards.

That gave the other man time to pick up his knife, and a moment later Kili was using all his speed and skill to avoid the two knives at once while trying to land a blow of his own. He kept slipping out from between the men to get behind one or the other, but always they would turn in time to defend themselves. Kili was kicked hard in the stomach at one point but he clenched his teeth with a grimace of pain and kept fighting. Then again he recieved the butt end of a knife to his head which made stars appear before his eyes but as before he ignored the residual throb it left behind and thanked Mahal it had not been the sharp end.

All at once, two things happened. The man whose name Kili did not know tripped over the dwarf's outstretched foot, and Sodrunn's knife came down and knocked Kili's knife out of his hand. Frozen for a millisecond, Kili just had time to register a searing pain in his thigh before the big man's hands wrapped themselves around his throat and lifted him off the ground. He gulped for air as the world around him swayed, then he felt a brief falling sensation and the ground came up to meet him.

His head hit the ground hard, but a moment later Kili wished it had been harder because he hurt so much. He knew in that moment that he had lost. Unconsciousness seemed so welcoming, but try as he might he could not quite reach it and he supposed it was still probably better if he was awake for this. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to curl himself up as small as possible, but as he moved his left leg his thigh screamed in agony. Gingerly he reached his fingers down to touch it, and they came away sticky with bright red blood. He could feel the men towering over him as he lay cowering on the ground, and he wondered what would become of him; he hated to admit it, but he was more frightened than he had been in half a year, and that in itself scared him.

"That's a lot of blood, Yarvin," grunted Sodrunn, "Shouldn't have pulled the knife out."

"Since when did you become an expert?" snapped the man, who was apparently named Yarvin.

Kili felt hands on his leg and he winced, jerking away and opening his eyes despite the pain.

"Don't touch me," he gasped, trying to drag himself away from the men but knowing all the while that it was futile.

"Now now, don't squirm little prince," Yarvin cooed patronisingly, "We don't want you dead so if you value your leg you'll let us patch it up for you. And if you make any noise louder than a whisper, you'll lose the other one as well before you can say 'Arkenstone'. That's right, don't try anything. You're a prisoner now."

Sodrunn moved behind him and before Kili knew what was happening his hands were bound behind his back. Yarvin tied a strip of cloth tightly around his bleeding leg which made the dwarf grit his teeth in pain, but he didn't dare cry out. He was at the mercy of these two men and there was nothing he could do about it.

"Can't have anyone seeing you like this," commented Yarvin casually, "I hope you don't mind going under cover for a while?"

With that the man brought out a large canvas potato sack and with a sickening jolt Kili realised they were about to put him in it. He had no idea how he was going to send for help, but being put in a sack and carried around like a potato wasn't part of his non-existent plan. He looked around desperately - or at least, as quickly as his aching head would allow - and suddenly saw in the sky a raven, flying towards them. If only he could get its attention...

Kili felt broad hands tighten around his aching shoulders and before he could protest or struggle he was lifted off the floor and deposited unceremoniously in the canvas bag. His view was cut off by the light brown material and the top was swiftly closing above him, making him feel cramped and stuffy as well as highly uncomfortable, however it was not to last long, for a moment later he felt a single blow to the back of his head and knew no more.


	13. Chapter 13

_Yay! I managed to update! I had planned to do it yesterday, but amongst trying to complete six past papers for maths in two days, it somehow just didn't happen. Sorry! At least it's here now! And everything is finally coming together..._

_I don't think I say this enough, so thank you to all you lovely reviewers for inspiring and motivating me to write. This story would be nowhere without you - and I mean that._

_Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

><p>Unable to tell the time of day from the dim lamplit cell he was in, Legolas could not judge how much time passed waiting for food to be brought down, but he did know that it felt too long. Finally a man appeared at the end of the corridor and walked slowly down, three trays of stale bread and water balanced on his arms. He gave the first one to Edren, then moved on to Roren, and finally came to Legolas. "Here you are, little princeling," he sneered as he pushed it under the bars, "Fit for royalty, this food is. Hope you enjoy it."<p>

"Hey, you! Food man!" called Edren suddenly and urgently, and the man looked round.

A resounding _clang_ echoed around the stone cellar and the man dropped to the ground, unconscious. Legolas had reached through the bars, grabbed his head and hit it hard against the iron posts.

"Hopefully that's good enough to give him a concussion so he doesn't remember this happening," said Legolas, reaching through the cell door to unbuckle the man's belt, "And whoever built these cells clearly didn't have the safety of the wardens in mind."

Roren chuckled. "You're a smart one. You will stick to your word, won't you? Any profits, we get some too?"

"All of my profits from this, you can split between the two of you," said Legolas, finally locating the correct key and fitting it to his lock. The door swung open and he stepped out over the unconscious figure on the floor. "There's just one problem. I won't be making any profits. I'm not Arradon, and I don't work for your Boss. But thanks for helping me break out of here."

"What?" spluttered Edren in shock, "But you said you were on our side!"

"Even princes lie sometimes," called back Legolas, slipping through the door at the end of the hallway and out of sight. He would be in Dale before the sun was set.

* * *

><p>Thorin had not allowed Fili to return to the forge. Instead, he had told him to take a bath, change his clothes, and return to sit by his side in the throne room. It was duller than Fili had ever imagined. Thorin filled in paperwork on a stone tablet resting on his lap, and occasionally some official or other would come in and give a report, to which Thorin listened with mild interest and Fili let his mind glaze over entirely. He almost didn't notice when a bedraggled, breathless dwarf came puffing in, claiming that he had run all the way from Laketown. But then something about the dwarf made him lift his head up and pay attention.<p>

"Your highness, I was told to come and report to you since the Lord Dwalin isn't here," he explained, looking flustered.

"That is correct. What is your report?" asked Thorin.

"Bad, my Lord," he said, "The elf I followed is part of a plot to kidnap the crown prince!"

Thorin's eyebrows increased in altitude. "Indeed. The existence of this plot has already come to light here, and so I am keeping Fili by my side until it has been uncovered. What do you know of it?"

"Your highness, they already have something which they took when they...they ambushed Prince Fili on his way to Mirkwood but they want something else - a key - and information. They plan to kidnap him by the end of the day!"

Thorin turned to Fili. "Did you miss anything after you were attacked, sister-son?"

Fili shook his head. "Nothing - or at least, nothing important, since I haven't noticed it missing."

"A key..." murmured the King, "That must mean they are going to try and break into a part of Erebor. That would be why they need information. But why they think you have the key I do not know."

"The only key I have is to my own room," said Fili, "If they're after gold and jewels they must be ignorant of the measures you have taken."

Thorin nodded, knowing to what his nephew referred. No direct descendant of Durin was to have free access to the vaults of Erebor for fear of the gold sickness, and all transactions were to be made by trusted but low-born dwarves. Gloin still kept a close eye on the accountancy details, in spite of his nobility, and every now and again Bofur did a check on the gold itself, on account of him having no relation at all to the line of Durin and being of a generous nature. It was working thus far, though sometimes the King thought he could feel the Arkenstone calling to him.

"All the clues point to a robbery," said Thorin slowly, "So what would be helpful to someone who wanted to break into Erebor, that you had on your person in Dale?"

Fili thought for a moment. "Well, maybe this would be a better question to ask Nori, but if I were breaking into somewhere I didn't know, I would want a map of the place."

"And were you carrying a map?" asked Thorin.

"Yes," said Fili, "I wanted a map made of Dale for its reconstruction, and I took a map of Erebor to give them the idea."

"Excuse me," said Nithi the dwarf spy, looking a little nervous, "But how would a man from Laketown know that you were carrying a map of Erebor around Dale?"

Fili shrugged. "Lucky chance - for them at least. But we still don't know if it's gone, or that it was what they were looking for. I haven't seen it but there's no evidence to suggest that it has been taken. I can go and check now if -"

He broke off, because at that moment a harsh squawk filled the air and a raven soared in over their heads. It landed on top of Thorin's throne and cried aloud in its hoarse voice:

"Taken! Prince taken! Bad men in man-town, blood on ground! Prince taken!"

Fili leapt up from his seat, turning to Thorin.

"You can't stop me from going. This is my brother, and I will bring him back no matter what it takes."

Thorin stared into the hardened blue eyes that were the mirror image of his own, and bowed his head, knowing that he had lost the argument before it had begun.

"You may go, Fili. But do not go alone, and remember, you are the one that they really want. Do not put yourself in more danger than is necessary."

The crown prince of Erebor bowed his head to his King. "Thank you, Uncle."

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><p>Tauriel sat alone at the top of a tree near the edge of the forest, watching the line of dwarves trail slowly away towards the Mountain on the open plain below. On the bright side, at least no blood had been shed. That was the only bright side.<p>

Deeming it pointless to stay at the outpost any longer with the trainees, Amras had set off back to the palace of the Elvenking with the younger elves. Tauriel had not opted to go with them but had decided to linger here a while, though for no particular reason. Cellissel, the young member of the guard, stayed with her.

A black speck rose into the sky from the Mountain and Tauriel watched as it flapped its slow way towards Dale. The dwarves continued to trail away. It was peaceful up here, and Cellissel had promised to call if anything happened down on the forest floor so Tauriel was planning to spend several hours up here if she could. Her head felt clear and all gloomy thoughts - or in fact all thoughts together - could be blown out of her mind by the fresh breezy air. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, several minutes later, the black speck that was a raven was disappearing into the mist of Dale, which was right on the horizon and almost out of her sight. She waited, to see if it would emerge again, and barely ten minutes later it did, flying faster now towards the mountain. As it approached, the flock of ravens on the mountainside rose into the air, and they all merged into one black cloud until Tauriel couldn't tell which was the original raven at all.

Half an hour later or more, after she had drifted off into a trance for a while, she was brought back to the real world by the loud, urgent caw of a raven right next to her ear. She jumped, startled, and it took off from her shoulder and wheeled round until she held out her arm for it to land on. It began its short message immediately.

"Dwarf Prince taken! Bad men in man-town! Blood on ground!"

"WHAT?" cried Tauriel, so loudly that the raven took off cawing in alarm. She didn't wait to hear the message twice, however. It was in record time that she swung down the tall tree, almost falling for most of the way, and called urgently to Cellissel as soon as she was in earshot of the outpost. The young elf came running in alarm.

"What is it?" she asked breathlessly.

"Kili's in danger, I've got to go," Tauriel said without pausing for breath, "Stay here until I come back."

"But you shouldn't go alone!" exclaimed Cellissel.

"Oh, since when did protocol matter?" replied the Captain of Guard, slinging a spare quiver of arrows onto her back. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon. If you get lonely, leave a note and go back to the Palace."

"But -" protested Cellissel, but Tauriel was gone.

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><p>When Kili came to his senses, he was hanging from his wrists in a small, straw-littered barn of roughly-hewn planks of wood. The golden afternoon sunlight streamed in through wide cracks and made the dire situation look almost comically brighter than it really was. The three men and one elf standing in front of him looked almost innocent.<p>

There were many things to deny that statement, however, and Kili himself was one of them. Anyone casually observing a beaten-up dwarven prince with a bloodied rag tied around one leg hanging from the rafters by his wrists was anything but innocent.

Kili fixed them with his most resentful glare. None of them looked the least bit fazed.

"Woken up at last?" said the man who Kili didn't recognise, stepping towards him with a smile that was more like a grimace. "You've taken long enough. Now I expect you to make up for it by letting me ask a few...questions. Now, now, as long as you are honest with me you have nothing to fear," the man hissed in his ear as he walked slowly round the dwarf. Kili felt like a piece of meat being sized up. "It is unfortunate," the man continued, "that your dear brother couldn't be here, but unfortunately I was given the wrong information and got you instead. Still, never mind, never mind. You'll fetch a nice ransom in the end, even if it takes a bit longer to get to the real prize. We'll start with some simple questions, just to check that you are being honest with me. What is your name? Do not lie, I already know the answer."

Kili lifted his head as far as he was able and stared straight into the evil man's face, which was now hovering inches from his own. He looked the man straight in the eye for a good long moment, and then he spat in his face. He realised this was not the most princely thing to do, but he had resorted to his old fail-safe motto of 'what would Uncle Thorin do in such a situation?' and that told him to be as rude and stubborn as possible and not let them get any information out of him, not even something so simple as his name.

The man stepped back in disgust, wiping at his face with his sleeve, then looked down at Kili with badly concealed anger.

"I will give you another chance, since I may have forgotten to make clear my rules. If you cooperate, it will be nice and easy for all of us, but if you refuse to answer or become a nuisance in any way at all, it will be nice and entertaining for Sodrunn here but very painful for you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Clear as crystal," said Kili coldly, though his voice did not come out as strong as he had hoped. His wrists were starting to ache and his leg was paining him, but he would not appear weak despite his situation.

"Good," said the man with a smile. "Now, shall we try again? What is your name, Dwarf?"

"Kili, son of Dís, sister son of King Thorin Oakenshield son of Thrain son of Thror King Under the Mountain, brother to the Crown Prince, second in line to the throne of Erebor."

"Yes, yes, that will do," said the man, "You may call me Lord. That is, of course, not my real name but it will soon be my title." He chuckled a little, though no one else laughed. "Let us continue this game. How old are you, Kili?"

The dwarf ground his teeth, not wanting to make this easy but not eager for any punishment. How would one go about talking back to someone who had control over one's life or death? Who had ever done such a thing anyway?

The answer came to him almost immediately: Bilbo. The hobbit had riddled with a Dragon, for Mahal's sake! Then surely that held the answer? Riddles? It must be worth a try.

"I am the childhood of an elf minus my dwarven companions, and twice the difference between me and my brother less than that," he said, using the first numbers that came into his head.

Lord snarled, "Don't play clever with me, Dwarf. Give me a number."

"What's the point? I told you my name and now you're just calling me Dwarf anyway," retorted Kili, though he couldn't shrug due to the small hindrance of hanging from his wrists.

"Answer me!" Lord growled menacingly, "We haven't even got onto the important questions yet and you already defy me?"

"You're wasting time, just skip the practise questions and get to the real ones so I can refuse to answer those as well," said Kili, "Or just skip straight to the part where you leave me alone. That would save time."

"I think you should hurry up," Yarvin spoke up bravely from behind Lord, "We risk discovery the longer we stay here."

"Or maybe you just want to get away from me, is that it?" Lord sneered, wheeling round and addressing the man condescendingly, "You want the information so you can go and do your next task, while I go back to Laketown with the prisoner? Well I'm afraid the plan has changed. Arradon will perform the delicate task while you and your pea-headed sidekick come with me. Understood?"

Yarvin nodded frantically, "Yes, Lord!"

"Good," said Lord, turning back to Kili. "Now, I agree that we should start on the important questions, but first I think a little...tongue-loosening is in order. Sodrunn!"

The brute stepped forward, and Kili felt a his stomach plummet as a giant meaty fist was raised level with his face. The second before the impact was the worst, anticipation making his heart beat like it was pumping custard rather than blood around his body, but the pain afterwards was almost as bad. He felt like his face had exploded in flames.

And as if that wasn't enough, it kept coming. Again and again Sodrunn pounded him, until he was swinging back and forth from the rope around his wrists, which was digging in more than he cared to acknowledge. At last, long after his thoughts had turned sluggish and indistinct and his eyes only saw stars, he came to realise that it had stopped. His vision was clearing, and he was no longer on the verge of passing out. The pain became sharper, but it was bearable. He lifted his head.

"I hope that will encourage you to be truthful in your answers to my next questions," said Lord with satisfaction.

Kili had just the energy to raise one eyebrow.

"If my purpose hasn't already become clear to you, I will explain it now. There will be no secrets between us," continued Lord haughtily, "I plan to steal the Arkenstone. Of course, he would be a fool who used it to bargain with the King under the Mountain," he laughed hoarsely, "but elsewhere in the world it will fetch a fine price. No, I do not plan on risking my life for one jewel. I will be the mysterious beggar who comes back from travels to distant lands laden with riches, rich enough in fact to overthrow the Master, weakened with old age and lost without his most trusted advisor, and then I will be King of Esgaroth!"

"Do you want me to point out the flaws?" said Kili, "Or do you want to dream on a little longer?"

Kili felt Lord's fist connect with his face and pain sprang up anew, but he blocked it out and looked the man straight in the eye unwaveringly.

"Cut the cheek," growled Lord, "I don't have time for it. All I need you to tell me is where the King's Jewel is and how to get to it."

"You won't get to it," said Kili with a grimace. Inside his brain, cogs were whirring.

The truth was, he didn't know even the location of the Arkenstone, let alone how to get past the inevitably many layers of protection surrounding it. But if he told that to Lord straight out, he would probably get beaten for lying until Sodrunn got bored and they took him to wherever their more secure place was and locked him up for good. Here, if he delayed them longer, there was a miniscule chance that they would be discovered and he would be rescued. It was only a small chance, but Kili was holding onto it because the other option would be despair, and his stubbornness simply would not allow that.

"I do not want your opinion, Dwarf," Lord said with a sneer, "I asked for a location."

"Oh, it's precisely the length of six dwarves and an elf North of the main entrance, then straight down thirty oliphaunts," Kili shot back, "Or if you want I can give you directions from the front gate, which would take an hour to explain only for you to forget it anyway."

"I do not need directions; Yarvin was so kind as to retrieve this for me the other day. Unfortunately he could not find the key as well, but of course it it possible to pick a lock," said Lord snidely, retrieving from his pocket a crumpled piece of paper which he unfolded in front of Kili's nose.

The dwarf looked at the familiar shapes, depicting corridors he had walked down many times, leading to new routes he had never explored, and down to levels he hadn't known existed. The handwriting too was familiar; it looked suspiciously like Balin's work.

"A key?" Kili said, picking up on the part which took the conversation away from the exact location of the Arkenstone, "What makes you think the lock requires a key, or that there is a lock at all? It is true that we have the best locksmiths in Arda, but we carve our lives out of the mountain and we know more ways to conceal a chamber than you have probably ever dreamed of."

Lord frowned. "Are you saying that the chamber in which the Arkenstone is kept is hidden rather than protected by a lock?"

"Maybe, maybe not," replied Kili, risking a grin.

Lord's fist slammed into his face with force that sent him swinging once more, and Kili's head reeled as a thin line of bright blood trickled down into his stubbly beard.

"YES OR NO, IS THERE A LOCK?" yelled the man, his face inches from Kili's.

"Yes!" said Kili, turning his face from the blast of air, "Yes there is a lock!"

"Then there must be a key, which according to my information is kept by the crown prince," said Lord.

"No!" said Kili immediately, "That's wrong!"

"What's wrong about it?" Lord raised his eyebrows, sensing that he had hit a nerve.

"There is a lock, but no key," replied Kili, trying to keep his panic to a minimum. The last thing he wanted was for these men to go after Fili too.

"How can a lock have no key?" Lord sneered, "I think you're lying."

Kili decided to leave out that he had been lying all along about everything, and replied, "It will only open to a dwarf, or one who knows stone like the back of their hand. Anyone else won't even be able to see the door."

The man's eyes widened as if something had suddenly clicked into place in his mind. Kili puzzled over what it could be, but a part of him was also somewhat pleased that he was turning out to be such a good liar.

Lord now smiled in a way that made Kili feel sick, and said smoothly, "I think we may have a way around that. A little...leverage might be in order." He moved over to the two other men and elf standing a little back, and had a quiet word with Arradon. The elf nodded and replied, but Kili didn't catch the words, only the certainty in them. Lord smiled again, and moved back to the dwarf.

"It has been arranged," he said with a smug smile. "Now all that is left is for you to tell me the exact location. Don't lie, and don't avoid the question. It will all be over soon."

Kili gulped, and for the first time his mind went blank. In half a year of living there, he still didn't know Erebor well enough to lie convincingly. No rescue had come so far, and his hope was dwindling, but he was still determined to hold these villains up as long as possible so he said the only thing which came to mind.

"No."

"I beg your pardon?" said Lord, his eyebrows travelling patronisingly up his forehead.

"I'm not going to tell you where it is," said Kili bluntly.

Lord now frowned menacingly. "If you do not cooperate the information will be forced out of you."

"Going to shove a spoon down my throat and fish it out are you?" countered Kili, hearing Fili's exasperated voice in his head chiding him for his recklessness but ignoring it. The dull throbbing pain from the last round of beating warned him to listen to it, but stubbornness kept him from paying it any attention.

The fist came flying out of thin air, completely expected but nonetheless painful.

"TELL ME!" yelled Lord, grabbing Kili's chin forcefully and tilting the dwarf's head sharply upwards. Kili spat in his face for the second time that day.

The man dropped his hand to wipe the spit from his face with his sleeve, and when the face emerged Kili saw that it was fuming.

"Sodrunn, I greatly regret that it has come to this, but would you care to provide a little...encouragement," said Lord, his voice dangerously quiet.

The largest man in the barn moved forward slowly, almost solemnly, and Kili felt a swoop of dread in the pit of his stomach. The man pulled out a knife and for a moment Kili thought he was a dead dwarf but then there was a swish and the ground came up to meet him. The Prince of Erebor crumpled to the floor like a very painful sack of potatoes, and did not move, knowing that it was futile. A warm ache spread out from his thigh and he knew his stab wound had started bleeding heavily again. The ropes still around his wrists were yanked upwards and he was pulled to his feet and into the air, but only for a moment because the knife came down, cutting his remaining bonds, and he fell limp to the ground once more.

"Remember, you can make this stop at any moment you choose," said Lord pompously, "You need not endure it, you may agree to cooperate perfectly and show me the location of the Arkenstone, however if you do not, you will be tortured to the death. Do you understand?"

Kili didn't even bother lifting his head to reply. He was saving his strength and trying to judge how long he could last for before he broke. Quite a while, he hoped. It might be his only chance.

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><p><em>Please drop a review if you have time! It might just make the next chapter pop up faster ;)<em>


	14. Chapter 14

_Hello again! Thank you thank you thank you all you wonderful people for reviewing, it has miraculously got me through this first week back at school. Only one more day until the weekend! Yay!_

_Here is a little bit of trivia from some research I did, inspired by a query I received from guest reviewer Sona: surnames don't work the same in Middle Earth. People get nicknames for famous deeds, "Oakenshield" for example, but otherwise they typically use their father's name as identification. This involves adding a thing on the end of the word, e.g. for Dwarves they use -ul as in Balin Fundinul (written on Balin's gravestone in Moria) which practically means "Balin son of Fundin". Elves, conversely, use -ion, which gives Legolas the name "Thranduilion". I've also seen in fanfics 'ion-nin' meaning 'my son', which kinda makes sense since 'nin' means 'my'. But isn't he called Legolas Greenleaf? Well, for starters, Greenleaf isn't elvish, so it's clearly not a surname. It is actually the translation of Legolas's name into common. Eryn Lasgalen, a term I've been using quite a lot for Mirkwood, literally means 'Wood of the Green Leaves' so you can see the similarities. This means that calling him Legolas Greenleaf is like calling him Greenleaf Greenleaf, or Legolas Legolas. Or perhaps it's like saying "Hello Bonjour" every time you meet a friend. Not that there's anything wrong with that - I mean, if Galadriel says it, it must be a legitimate thing to call him - but all I'm saying is, you can pretty much call him anything you like. I once read a complicated thing about elvish naming customs, and whether it was all reliable or not, it seemed pretty interesting, because apparently elves have several names given to them at certain times by certain people, but since I've forgotten most of the details I won't quote anything here. I'll also mention that this is only how I understand things to be and if I've got anything wrong please correct me! There, you are now officially Tolkienified for the day. If you didn't know all that already. Now go read the story :)_

_Oh, and I'll also apologise in advance for...well, you'll see. I am evil :D_

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><p>Legolas reached Dale on his horse not long after noon. The first thing to do, he realised, was to make sure Fili was there and give the warning in person if possible. The second was to track down Yarvin.<p>

Since he knew of no stables in which he could leave his horse, Legolas tied the intelligent beast loosely to a lone wooden post on the South side of the town, among a field of newly-sprung grass and daisies. He guessed it would be safe there until he returned or could find a better place to leave it. Then he made his way towards the centre, where he had heard most of the building was going on.

The air got gradually dustier and the roads became gradually more mended as Legolas neared the more inhabited parts of the city. At last he turned a corner and saw, far down at the other end of the street, men lifting heavy slabs of stone and with them smaller figures giving directions. Here were people who could tell him where Fili was. He broke into a light jog, his worry increasing the nearer towards them he got, because now at last he would know if all his toils had been for nothing.

A short figure sprinted out of a side-road and collided with him head first, sending the both of them stumbling back but not loosing their footing. In an instant Legolas saw who it was, and laughed out loud.

"Fili! Thank goodness you're -"

"Kili's in danger; he's been kidnapped!" the crown prince of Erebor cut in, and Legolas' heart plummeted. He had been too late after all - but why Kili? Had there been a mistake?

"What -" he began, but again was cut off as a figure dropped from a half-constructed rooftop above.

"Kili's been kidnapped, we need to find him," said Tauriel breathlessly, not seeming at all surprised to have run into the crown princes of two realms both together in a city that was not their own.

"Aren't you -" began Legolas a third time.

"We can have story time later, now we need to shut up and hurry up," said Tauriel so sternly that Legolas forgot that he was technically her superior and shut his mouth, following immediately as the female elf took off in the direction he had just come from. Fili came behind, following closely on his heels.

After about a minute of running through the streets, the elf heard Fili shout from behind him, "Does anyone actually know where we're going?"

"Somewhere away from the construction," Tauriel called back, "Somewhere neglected but not ruined. Somewhere on the side facing away from the Mountain."

"Facing Laketown," Legolas realised out loud, "That's where the kidnappers are from. It would give them a quick getaway."

"Let's hope they haven't already used it," commented Tauriel from ahead.

They wove their way in and out of uncleared wreckage for a few minutes longer, until the dwarf's voice came from significantly further behind than it had been.

"Can we slow down? Please?" gasped Fili, and the elves paused long enough for him to catch up.

"We can't waste any time," said Tauriel, looking worried, "

But if we split up we could cover more ground. They must have taken him somewhere around here."

Legolas nodded, "If they took him back to Laketown I would have met them on the road. We can use the nuthatch call if any of us find him."

"Nuthatch call?" queried the dwarf.

"Just whistle, loudly," replied Legolas, "Good luck."

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><p>They split up and headed in opposite directions, Legolas taking the west, Tauriel taking the east and Fili heading straight on towards the southern end of the ruined city. The dwarf ran at a pace he knew he could maintain, because he was sure that wherever this ended, there would be fighting. The twin swords on his back felt natural, like they were a part of him. His hands itched to draw them.<p>

Every now and again he paused and listened intently. The only sound he could hear was the odd caw of a raven up above. No voices. He continued on his way.

All of a sudden he heard a yell, quiet in the distance but loud to his ears because he knew that voice as well as his own.

"Kili!" he shouted on reflex, then he realised that no one was likely to hear it. The cry had been one of pain, and Fili's heart was in his mouth as he put two fingers to his lips and let out a long, shrill whistle. It sounded nothing like a bird, but he didn't suppose that mattered. Legolas and Tauriel would get the message.

Sprinting at top speed towards the place where the sound had come from, around empty pigsties and abandoned chicken coops, hay carts and roughly-constructed barns in which he guessed the livestock of Dale had been kept that winter, Fili heard another cry, clearer than before:

"No! No, please stop! I'll tell you!"

It was coming from a barn directly ahead of him and without a second thought he collided with the door, sending it flying inwards, and drew his swords. The person nearest him was a man, the shortest in the room but nonetheless generously built. In less than a moment Fili had him kneeling on the floor in front of him with two swords hovering dangerously close to his neck.

Kili was at the other side of the barn, held by a man whose height and breadth was comparable to a horse. Kili's arm was twisted awkwardly behind him and was clearly causing him pain, and Fili was horrified to see a dirty, bloodstained rag tied haphazardly around his brother's thigh. From the way Kili's eyes kept glazing over and recovering as the dwarves locked gazes, the older one realised that the younger had to be almost at his limit. The blossoming bruises and thin trail of blood on his face spoke of many beatings in quick succession before Fili had got there, and the crown prince of Erebor cursed everything that might have caused him even the slightest delay in getting here.

_It should have been me._ He could not get the thought out of his head.

"Put him down or this one dies," said Fili, successfully hiding the slight waver in his voice. He could see that this lot carried knives quite openly, and he hoped that Legolas and Tauriel would hurry up.

"Well well well, look who we have here," sneered the man who was neither the one holding Kili nor the one whose neck was being threatened by Fili's swords. "It looks like we won't have to go to the trouble of kidnapping this one after all."

"I said put him down," repeated Fili through gritted teeth. There was hope in Kili's eyes which made him more determined than ever not to fail.

"Not so fast," said the man, but the dwarf wasn't having it.

"Five," Fili said slowly, "Four."

The man glared, and the big man holding Kili gave his captive's arm a little wrench which made the youngest Durin grit his teeth in pain but refuse to whimper or cry out. Fili felt a surge of pride for his little brother, but it came with a pain that was almost physical.

"Three."

At that moment, a small portion of the ceiling was kicked down from above and the red-headed she-elf dropped elegantly through. She looked around the silent room and she locked eyes with Kili for a split second, but as her gaze moved on she let out an almost inaudible gasp of surprise.

"Lhénir?"

The elf turned around. "It's Arradon now. You really shouldn't be surprised to see me moving onwards and upwards in the world. Leaving Mirkwood was the best decision I ever made."

"One: you were thrown out, you didn't choose to go. Two: if you call this onwards and upwards I'm surprised you haven't tried digging for gold in a tree yet," replied Tauriel, "And I suppose you're still mediocre at fighting."

Before anyone in the room could blink, the female elf had the traitor's arms behind his back and a knife to his neck. He gritted his teeth in defiance but could not struggle.

"I suggest you all drop you weapons and let the dwarf go," she said clearly, "You may run back to Esgaroth with your lives if you leave now."

For a moment, the man Fili was holding looked as if he might want to go, but at the slightest jerk of their leader's head all thought of surrender flew away like a leaf catching the tail end of a hurricane.

The was silence for a moment. Then Fili said "Two."

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><p>Kili didn't know what would happen when Fili ended the countdown. From what he could tell, Lord would quite easily let his minions be killed without batting an eyelid and he dreaded what Sodrunn might do to him if Lord allowed it, but even more he dreaded that Fili would be captured too and would be forced to endure the same torture as he had. He wished he had more strength, so that he could break free of the brute holding him and save his brother from the weight of responsibility he was surely feeling for him, but the truth was he could barely breathe through the pain let alone escape from it. Seeing Tauriel had given him even more hope than he could ever have expected, but it didn't do much to help his situation.<p>

A shout echoed from above and to the west of the barn. Another shout followed and a curse in the Sindarin dialect of Mirkwood, then three elves dropped consecutively through the hole Tauriel had made in the roof. The first two were slightly ahead of the third, and looked positively more dangerous. While Legolas had only the knives he had been able to conceal on his previous arrest as weapons, each of these two new elves had a bow and full quiver, accompanied by a pair of long knives that were almost the length of Fili's swords. Kili recognised them, though only after a slight moment's thought. They were the two elves he and Tauriel had sent out of Mirkwood, who had been banished for speaking out against an alliance with the Dwarves. That could not be a good thing.

There was no pause in the air, not even as the first two elves stumbled their landing and struggled to regain their footing while Legolas took an instant to sweep his gaze across the scene. In the split second of distraction brought by the arrivals, Arradon twisted round in Tauriel's grip and managed to pull away. Immediately Yarvin ducked under Fili's swords, and that seemed to be the signal for the fight to begin.

Kili felt himself dropped to the ground as Sodrunn lurched forward to join the fray, but even as he fell and hit the floor Kili's eyes could not leave Tauriel. To the side he could see Lord backing away from Fili who in turn was being advanced upon by Sodrunn, while Yarvin lay motionless on the ground behind. Legolas was facing the three elves at once with his shorter knives but was still managing to hold them at bay. Tauriel was facing away from him but had not moved since Arradon broke away from her, and suddenly he saw her fall to her knees, her hands clutching something at her stomach. She turned slightly as she fell, and with a horror that smote him like a bucket of ice Kili saw the hilt of a knife protruding from between her hands.

"Tauriel!" he cried out loud, but his voice emerged as barely a croak. Still, Legolas turned just in time to see the fiery she-elf collapse sideways and remain on the ground, a growing circle of blood around her abdomen.

"Tauriel!" the Elf prince called in despair, but his opponents were too many and though one of them fell a moment later he could not do anything, still beset by two enemies who were fighting hard and with better weapons.

From deep inside him, Kili found the strength to lift himself onto his elbows and, inch by inch, crawl his way towards the wounded elf. His leg screamed in agony, and his whole body ached with bruises, and he couldn't yet tell whether any lasting damage had been done to the wrist which Sodrunn had twisted, but he ploughed on stubbornly, refusing to give in.

A cry of pain came from his left and though Kili ignored it, he could tell that it had come from Lord. He was nearly at Tauriel, and he could see how pale her face was, could read the agony in it as she struggled to take shallow breaths. This was worse than his nightmares ever were, and one of his greatest fears now seemed more and more likely to come true. Inside his head he was praying to every Valar he could remember the name of in any language but despair was creeping up inside him and a lump was forming in his throat, throbbing with the pounding drum of his heartbeat.

The shouted words floated vaguely over him, "Take the Dwarf and retreat!" but he paid them no heed, so close now to Tauriel that he could almost reach her hair, splayed like a crimson sea across the cold ground.

Then, a strong hand closed around his ankle and hauled him into the air, swinging him round and over Sodrunn's shoulder. He cried out, not in pain but in frustration and anger and sickening worry, but he was helpless once more as the room swung around him and disappeared behind one of its shabby wooden walls. The last thing he saw before he was hit over the head was Fili running desperately after him shouting his name. After that, there was nothing.


	15. Chapter 15

_I apologise sincerely for the cliffhanger last chapter. I also apologise sincerely that I am not getting nicer just yet. Sorry guys!_

_Still, your lovely/slightly intimidating reviews for last chapter have been keeping me writing, so I must thank you all for them. You make me feel slightly guilty for being so cruel. But only slightly, because I'm enjoying this too much ;)_

_Have a nice chapter! Muahahahaaa!_

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><p>As soon as the fight started, Fili had lunged straight for the leader after quickly and neatly getting the smallest man out of the way, but he had been prevented from immediately finishing off the villain by an unexpected attack from the largest man who had been holding Kili. A quick glance showed that his brother was on the floor, weak but alive and as yet largely ignored by everyone else, and most importantly those who might attack him in his vulnerable state. Satisfied for the moment that Kili was not in immediate danger, he returned to the more pressing problem of his two opponents.<p>

The blood rushing in his ears blocked out most sounds in the fray but he did not miss that Tauriel had fallen, injured or...he could not even consider the alternative. His swords flashed and the leader, with his curiously well crafted broadsword, took another step back. A minute passed, and then another. Legolas had disposed of one of his opponents but the other two were still providing a challenge. Fili hoped that another would fall soon, which would turn the tide well in their favour, but he hoped in vain.

It seemed, however, that the leader was tiring out, even though Fili was as energetic as when the fight had begun, and he began to use it to his advantage. He slipped beneath a strike in order to put the leader between himself and the biggest man, and before the leader could turn he landed a blow to his upper arm, drawing a line of bright blood. The leader yelled in pain, but continued to fight. Another few scratches later, Fili was sure he was going to win in a minute, but the leader shouted an order to his followers and suddenly the large man was gone and the leader was fleeing. Having heard the order and seeing where the big man was heading, Fili pursued him but to his dismay Kili was scooped up and hoisted away before he could shout anything more than his name. The men ran fast, and Fili had no hope of catching them on his much shorter legs. He saw an elf hit Kili over the head with a knife hilt, saw his brother's eyes roll back in his head, and knew that it was too late. He sank to his knees in despair.

A sudden anger rose in him. Where was Legolas? He could run faster than the men; he could rescue Kili if he tried. Where was he?

Fili rose to his feet and stormed back to the shed, kicking the door frame as he entered.

"Legolas," he began angrily, then stopped abruptly.

The elf looked up, tears streaking his face, and said in a choked whisper, "Fili, please."

Fili sank to his knees beside his friend, waves of sorrow hitting him again and again as he looked at the deathly pale she-elf in front of him. The only sign that Tauriel still lived was the fractional rise and fall of her chest, but from the looks of it, that wouldn't be for much longer.

"I...can't..." whispered Legolas, then swallowed hard and shook his head, a tear falling freely down his cheek. "There must be hope."

Fili said nothing, but put his hand comfortingly on Legolas' shoulder and felt the elf trembling beneath it.

The crown prince of Eryn Lasgalen turned to him, his gaze clouded by tears but not yet devoid of hope. "My horse is tethered in the fields south of here. Bring my father," he said.

Fili nodded. He did not need to ask why Legolas did not go himself; he could understand all too well. The journey there and back would take several hours, but Fili knew that if there was any chance at all to save Tauriel, Legolas would never forgive himself if he did not take it. He only hoped that some miracle could keep the captain of the guard alive that long.

Afterwards he could never quite recall how he had been able to mount the full grown horse, or how he had managed to set it going, but before long Fili was galloping at full speed towards the Elvenking's Palace. Luckily the horse seemed to know where it was going and Fili's only job was not to fall off. The journey seemed to take forever, though the movement of the sun in the sky told him that it was only a couple of hours at most, but even that, he knew, might be too long.

As he rode, his mind strayed constantly to Kili and where he might be, what state he was in, and whether he knew that Tauriel balanced on the brink between life and death. Not for a moment did Fili question his decision to do this rather than pursue his brother, however. Apart from the fact that he trusted Kili to keep himself alive long enough to be rescued, the older Durin knew that if Tauriel died, Kili would break. He could not let that happen.

At long last the trees grew and engulfed him, dimming the mid-afternoon light to a green and golden haze that glimmered off the splashing forest river. It was beautiful, but Fili never saw it, caught up in a whirlwind of catastrophes as he was. Legolas' horse galloped straight on past, and the irony of the fortunate weather was lost on the dwarf.

The palace came into sight, and Fili wondered what the horse was going to do because he himself could not remember where the stables were or how to get from them to the front gate. He did not have to worry about that, however, because the horse carried him straight across the narrow bridge and between two confused sentinels at the gate, right into the main hall; and right in front of him with a saddled horse and making ready to go somewhere was the Elvenking himself.

All faces looked up as Fili rode in. Many of them recognised the horse he rode and gaped as much as is possible for an elf without becoming ungraceful. Thranduil looked up with a frown, immediately knowing that something was amiss.

"King Thranduil, please come quickly," said Fili, remembering the importance of his manners, "Tauriel is gravely wounded in Dale and Legolas bade me summon you. I fear only you can save her."

The Elvenking's face hardened, but Fili thought he caught a glimpse of dread in it before the facade came down.

"I will come immediately," he replied, then turned to the elf next to him. "Brúthor, fetch my medical supplies and organise for the best healers to prepare for my return. I cannot afford to wait."

The elf bowed, saying, "As you wish, your highness," and dashed off down a passageway. Thranduil mounted his horse and steered it alongside Fili.

"The last thing I heard, my son was locked in Esgaroth's prison," said the King, and Fili almost choked in surprise.

"I have not heard that!" he said, "There was no time for explanations when we met in Dale."

Thranduil raised his eyebrows in interest. "I see there are several stories to tell here. Where is your brother? Is he still at the northern outpost?"

"No, unfortunately. He's been kidnapped and is probably in Laketown by now," replied Fili, "We were rescuing him but we were outnumbered. That is how Tauriel was injured."

"I see," said Thranduil, "There is much I wish to know here, but now is not the time. We must hasten."

Brúthor had arrived back and handed over a large satchel to his King, bowing as he did so. The Elvenking then rode towards the great doors and to Fili's relief Legolas' horse followed without command. They broke into a gallop as they crossed the bridge out of the palace, and soon they were going at full speed back to Dale where Legolas and Tauriel waited.

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><p>Kili awoke in a dungeon. At least, that was what he assumed he was in, because no light entered the place, engulfing it in a darkness that not even a dwarf could see in. The stone beneath him was hard and cold, and his breathing echoed loudly around his ears. The smell was repugnant.<p>

His mind was cold and empty. Thoughts could not form. It was as if he was blocking out the memory of something awful that had happened.

And as if that idea had been a spark, the most recent memories blazed up in his mind and he shuddered as if under a physical blow. _Tauriel, falling, not getting up. A bright circle of blood._ Kili retched as the sequence played over again and again in his mind. _Not knowing whether she still lived. So close. A hand closing around his ankle. Going...going...gone._ Where was Tauriel now? Was she alive or dead? How long until he found out? _Would_ he ever find out? _This was his fault._ He was the one who was kidnapped, which led to Tauriel coming to rescue him. He had seen the raven coming for him; he should have known it would find Tauriel. She was the one he most frequently sent messages to, after all. Had the raven been from her? _He had wished for help, and it had come, but at what cost?_ He was still captured. The only consequence of his actions was that Tauriel was now injured. _Dying. Dead._

The sound of a door opening and a beam of light shining into his cell pulled Kili from his drowning whirlpool of despairing thoughts and he sat up from the ball he had curled himself into. He also shut his mouth, only just realising that he had been muttering the word "no" again and again. That must have been how they had known he was awake. A man sauntered into view. He was not one that Kili recognised.

The rather grimy man suddenly grinned, and Kili didn't like the look of it. "They say you're a prince. You don't look it, but since you're still alive after Sodrunn used you as a punchbag I guess you must be," he said. Kili didn't answer, so the man bent down and pushed a saucer of water beneath the bars. Kili didn't move to take it. "You're the second one I've met today," the man continued, unperturbed, "The first was a rathead. Told us he was on our side then turned out he wasn't. I'm liking you better, you're quiet. Though I'll wager the boss finds it dead annoying." Kili didn't reply. The man shrugged. "I've got to go now, but I'll see you around. I'm Roren by the way. Nice meeting you." He turned and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

As Kili was plunged once again into darkness, he felt his head give an almighty throb and suddenly he was acutely aware of all his pain that somehow up until now he had missed. Worst of all was his leg, which felt swollen now although thankfully it had stopped bleeding for the most part, and the area around the wound ached so much that even wriggling his toes made it throb. Then there was his wrist, which had been twisted by Sodrunn just before Fili arrived, the intention certainly to break a bone. The hand felt limp and he could not rotate it very well without a spike of pain shooting up his arm, but as far as he could tell it was only a sprain. Hopefully.

The other cuts and bruises were minor in comparison and generally unremarkable, but this new headache he guessed came from being knocked out just after the failed rescue attempt. He shut his eyes and tried to block it out, because it only reminded him of the dreadful consequences of his kidnap. That made it worse. Reluctantly, he sunk back into deep and brooding thoughts.

The second time the door opened was a short while after, and Kili didn't bother looking up as a person came to stand in front of his bars. All the fight had left him. What was the point? Tauriel could be dead, in which case life had lost all its purpose and he might as well not exist. His dish of water lay untouched where Roren had left it.

The sound of a key grating in the lock of his cell door met Kili's ears, followed by a creak and two footsteps. An order came out of the man's mouth. The dwarf hadn't yet bothered to see which man it was. The order was repeated. Kili didn't move. He felt a hand close around his arm and haul him to his feet, so eventually he looked up and saw no man in fact, but Arradon the elf.

"Lord orders your presence," said the Elf haughtily, "Follow me or I will bring you by force."

Kili, suddenly lightheaded from being made to stand up, took a stumbling step after Arradon and promptly fell over, having put his weight on his bad leg and found that it could not take it. He sat on the floor, feeling somewhat foolish but not in the mood to care.

"As you wish," said the Elf, and taking Kili by both wrists he dragged him up the stairs out of the cellar and through a door at the side to a room lit only with lanterns hanging from the ceiling and no window.

Lord stood there, and one of the two elves that had joined the fight, and Roren the somewhat friendly man who had brought the water, and another man who Kili did not recognise but who looked a bit like Roren. Sodrunn the thug was conspicuously absent. Then, to his shock, there was a dwarf. A dwarf who, in fact, looked the tiniest bit familiar, even though the prince was certain they had never met before. Though he did look more than a little uncomfortable standing there in front of his helpless prince, Kili hoped for the dwarf's sake that there might be something more to allow a sliver of redemption, otherwise the punishment for this would be dreadful beyond thought. Thorin would show no mercy.

Arradon threw Kili to the floor in front of Lord and took a step back. Kili raised his head to the person he despised most in the world at this moment and glared with all his strength.

"I do not wish to question you again," said Lord, "But unfortunately you are the only person here who has the information I need, and I will get it out of you. You have caused me enough trouble as it is but I will not give up now. Tell me where the Arkenstone is hidden."

Kili used the arm with the good wrist to push himself into a sitting position and took a moment to find his voice.

"No," he said quietly.

Lord beckoned to the Dwarf. "Svithrir, you know what to do."

The Dwarf stood staring uncomfortably at Kili for a long time.

"Svithrir," said Lord sharply.

Svithrir took a hesitant step forward. Kili's eyes widened as he guessed that this dwarf was going to be made to torture him and he locked eyes, gave the tiniest shake of his head and mouthed "Please."

The dwarf stopped in his tracks and turned to Lord.

"I cannot do this," he said in a deep voice, "I have done more than I am comfortable with already. You have done a grave ill here and I will have no more part in it."

Lord narrowed his eyes. "I have more spies than you perhaps believe, Svithrir. You know what the consequences of your disobedience will be."

Svithrir shook his head in defiance. "I will not do this."

"Then you will take the punishment," said Lord, "But do not fear, I have other people less cowardly to do what you cannot." He turned to the others. "Who would like the honour?"

The elf whom Kili vaguely recognised from Mirkwood stepped forward. "Let me avenge Gurthon, Lord."

"Very well," replied the leader, stepping aside and gesturing towards Kili.

The Dwarven Prince felt himself lifted into the air by the back of the shirt, and he gasped for breath as the cloth tightened around his neck and cut off the air flow. Thankfully, it didn't last for long and he was slammed against a wall and allowed to slide down it, crumpling in a heap on the floor at the bottom. Then a hand closed around the front of his shirt and hauled him up the wall until he was face to face with the elf.

Lord said something from where he stood, but Kili wasn't listening. His head was swimming and his heart was thundering, and he admitted it - he wasn't just scared, he was terrified. Then the elf spoke in a low, menacing tone, and it was was worse than if he had been shouting.

"Where is the Arkenstone?"

Kili's brain whirred to a halt as a witty quip just refused to come to him. The terror was too much now, because he had no hope of rescue this time. Fili no doubt would try to follow, but what about Tauriel?

What about Tauriel? She could be dead. Then was there any point in him living? Well, that might not be up to him so it was better not to think of that. But if there was no rescue coming, what was the point in lying? It was better to just get the truth out and deal with the consequences quickly, rather than prolong them more than necessary.

"I don't know," he said, feeling the tip of a knife against his shoulder. He closed his eyes.

"You're a liar," said the elf, "Tell me where the Arkenstone it."

"Honestly, I don't know!" said Kili, and he felt the knife dig in a bit more, just below his collarbone. He continued through gritted teeth, "It is hidden from the line of Durin for all our safety, along with the rest of Thror's hoard, to guard against the sickness that took King Thror."

The knife pierced Kili's skin and he felt a trickle of warm blood flow down his chest.

"I have heard nothing of this," said the elf, "It is a lie. Tell the truth."

"It's been kept mostly secret," said Kili, breathing in sharply as the knife dug deeper, "Thorin feared that other races would see it as a weakness. Honestly, it's true!"

"If this is true," said Lord sternly, "then you cannot have known what you told me in Dale. You cannot fool me."

"I already have!" replied Kili, wincing at a slight movement of the knife, "I was lying then. This is the truth."

Lord frowned. "You mean to tell me that you were lying in Dale?"

"That's what I said," Kili answered.

"How much of it was a lie?" growled Lord, his brows furrowed and his face looking more and more troubled and angry.

"A- all of i- ahhh!" Kili tried to reply, but he felt the knife scrape against bone and couldn't help but cry out. He gritted his teeth and tried to block out the pain, but it didn't work. The knife sunk deeper and he groaned in agony.

"Stop!" came a low voice from low down near the floor, and Kili knew that Svithrir was stepping in to help him. He silently thanked the dwarf whom he had so harshly judged at first, and resolved that - should he ever get out of this mess - Svithrir would be rewarded, or at the very least, spared from punishment.

"What is it, Dwarf?" spat the elf, halting the advance of his knife into Kili's shoulder.

"He is telling the truth," said Svithrir, "The vaults in Erebor are hidden from those of royal descent. They are kept only by trusted dwarves of lesser lineage."

"Then you were lying all along," Lord accused Kili.

Kili felt the knife jerk in his shoulder, and gave a short cry of pain, then composed himself and hissed, "Yes."

"You don't know a thing about the Arkenstone."

"True."

The elf, at an angry gesture from Lord, pushed the knife the last few millimetres through Kili's shoulder and, with an agonising twist of the hilt, let him drop to the floor. Kili cried out, but no one payed him any attention except Svithrir, who glanced apologetically in his direction. Kili didn't expect anything more, but a moment later, the other dwarf glanced at Lord, who was preoccupied, seemed to make up his mind, and swiftly came over and dropped to his knees at Kili's side.

Taking a gentle hold of Kili's unhurt shoulder, he moved his prince into a more comfortable position leaning against the stone wall. Kili allowed him to do it without much of his own contribution because he felt too weak to move much more than his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered when he was sitting up, then glanced quickly at the group of men and elves around Lord, listening to some new plan. They were paying the two dwarves no attention.

"I'm sorry I can't do much; I'm no medic," said Svithrir apologetically.

"It doesn't matter...you've done enough," replied Kili in a whisper between forced breaths.

"I will send for help as soon as I can," continued the other dwarf, "I'll send a raven to Dale and Erebor."

Kili shook his head and closed his eyes as he blocked out the pain enough to continue. "Send one to Mirkwood. Tell them of this place, and that some of their exiles are involved."

Svithrir nodded. "As you wish, my Prince." He paused, as if preparing himself to say something. "I'm sorry for what I did. This is partly my fault."

"Whatever you did, you are forgiven," said Kili immediately. "It is all in the past."

Suddenly, Svithrir glanced up and quickly rose to his feet, moving away from Kili. Following his gaze, Kili saw that the small group had disbanded and Lord had left the room. His relief was short lived, however, because Arradon stepped towards him and hauled him up by the shoulder which still had the knife embedded in it, extracting from him a stifled noise of pain. Unable to stay on his own two feet, Kili was once more dragged from the room and down the stairs to his cell. As he was thrown unceremoniously inside, the elf sneered at him, but he felt empty. He could not bring himself to care.

He lay by the wall, unmoving, thinking at last that this round was now over, but Arradon had one more thing in store: he stepped across the cell and whispered, "Ulunnor will want his knife back." Then, with a relish, he twisted the knife hard that remained in Kili's shoulder and pulled it out, walking calmly away as the dwarf writhed on the floor, blood spurting freely out of the open wound. Dimly, Kili wondered whether he was going to die. Even more dimly, he wondered if he actually cared.


	16. Chapter 16

_It's here! Finally, I've decided I've been mean enough to you. That last chapter ending...I am sorry. It was fun. But here, have some nicer stuff (nicer is a relative concept) :)_

_This chapter is a little late because the reviews:homework ratio dipped a bit :( no one's fault, I'm sure, but I do have mocks coming up soon so all the support is worth it, guys! To my lovely guest reviewers (especially Kili the Guest and FiliBalrogSlayer!) I've had an idea that, since I have an option to edit guest reviews, I could reply to you 'on' your own review. I wouldn't edit anything and I'd make it clear that it's me...and of course you can decline this offer since I don't want to vandalise your wonderful reviews or anything, but if I did you would only have to scroll to your own review and read my reply...tell me if you think it could work!_

_This is the chapter where I suddenly bring back characters that I invented before, and I hinted at their importance at the time...if you don't remember them and it's too confusing, tell me and I'll include a summary at the beginning of next chapter, but I think I've made it clear enough._

_Enjoy, and happy weekend! :)_

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><p>Legolas wished he could do something. The tears which had fallen freely at first had dried up hours ago and left him hollow inside, reeling from the blow of the second knife, the one that still lay twisted in his heart. He didn't know how much hope, if any, he still had left. Tauriel lived, and though he had not dared pull the knife from her abdomen he had stemmed the flow of blood somewhat with his own shirt. Still, she lay there as pale as a distant star and barely seemed to breathe. Legolas could tell she was holding on. She would have passed away long before now if she had been any less strong. Even so, he didn't know for how much longer she could keep it that way.<p>

The noise of galloping hooves met his ears and his attention was caught. Could this be Fili, returning with his father? He did not dare hope, because he knew this was sooner than he had estimated, but by the sound of it there were two horses at least. He heard them slow to a walk, always coming closer, and then he heard an urgent voice that made his heart lift.

"Legolas, my son, does she still live?"

The prince of Eryn Lasgalen turned to see his father dismount from his tall white horse and come running over to kneel beside him. Fili dismounted with more difficulty, but came running not far behind.

"She is fighting," he replied, "But for how much longer I cannot tell."

He moved out of the way to allow his father room to work, opening his satchel of medical supplies and moving mechanically and methodically. It was unnerving how, when it came to removing the knife, Tauriel did not even shudder but lay there as if dead. Legolas panicked and checked her breathing again with a mirror from his father's kit. A small mist appeared on it, and he sat back in relief.

Fili did not sit or kneel, but stood stiffly watching the ongoing healing. It was clear to the others that his mind was preoccupied. Legolas did not have to think hard to know why.

It gave him a shock when suddenly a low moan escaped Tauriel's lips; the first noise she had made since being stabbed by Arradon. Thranduil's motions became quicker - a needle and thread here, a pungent drop of medicine there, until as if by magic the she-elf's breathing became audible and steady and her face relaxed and gained colour, giving the impression of sleep now rather than death.

"I have managed to stabilise her," said Thranduil, the first word spoken since he had arrived. "I can do no more now. We must hope she survives the journey home. I will take her on my horse."

"We will come too," replied Legolas immediately, "We must pursue Kili and his captors but we cannot do it alone." He said the last bit mostly for Fili's benefit, since he could see the worry prominent in the dwarf's demeanor.

"What of the bodies?" asked Fili grimly, referring to the man and elf who had fallen during the fight. Legolas had left Tauriel's side for a moment to check that they really had passed away, and his guesses had been confirmed.

"Leave them here," said Thranduil, "I can send some guards up to lay them to rest, but we do not have the time now. Come."

He handed his satchel to Legolas and lifted Tauriel as if she weighed no more than a feather, carrying her to his horse and ascending gracefully onto its bare back without even jolting the wounded elf. It was not so easy to get Fili onto the back of Legolas' horse, even with the Elf Prince's help. Eventually they managed it, and Fili sat rather awkwardly behind his friend on the tall horse, wondering how he had done it himself only a few hours ago.

The journey back seemed too long to Legolas, but to Fili it seemed short compared to the previous two times he had made it that day. As they rode, the two princes summarised their experiences to King Thranduil, who was very interested and even slightly amused to hear of Thorin's reaction to the new outpost - it appeared he had long been aware of the King under the Mountain's ignorance - but troubled and displeased when he learned the finer details of Legolas' arrest in Laketown. He agreed that the group of troublemakers had to be stopped as soon as possible and brought to justice.

Upon arrival at the palace in Eryn Lasgalen, the guards parted to let the two horses gallop past into the great hall. Thranduil dismounted with Tauriel and immediately two healers appeared at his side with a stretcher to bear the wounded Captain of the Guard away. Thranduil walked behind them and Legolas hurried after, but Fili knew he would only be a nuisance if he followed so he stood awkwardly by the horses, wondering what to do.

"Fili!"

He turned abruptly to the familiar voice, and to his surprise he saw Âlof running towards him across the hall, followed closely by the brothers Gjûki and Hogni, and lastly came Cellissel the elf guard. All of them looked worried, but pleased to see him. He was more than pleased to see them, though he was curious to know what had happened to the other cadets and Dwalin. The elf was the first to speak.

"Fili, is Tauriel all right? I heard she was injured badly and I saw her just now and..." Cellissel trailed off, a terribly anxious look on her usually mischievous face.

"She is better than she was," replied Fili, "When I left her with Legolas in Dale it looked bad, but now I think there is hope that she will recover. She took a knife during a fight we had with the criminals who kidnapped Kili."

"Where is Kili? Is he all right?" blurted out Âlof urgently.

"I don't know," replied Fili, the answer paining him to admit out loud, "We could not follow them, but we think they took him to Laketown."

Âlof bit her lip nervously, and the brothers looked at each other. Cellissel's face hardened in resolve.

"That's why we're here," she explained, "Tauriel got a raven that Kili had been taken, so she went off on her own, but I couldn't just let her go without backup so I ran nearly all the way to Erebor until I caught up with Dwalin and the guards who were taking the cadets back. I told them what had happened but Dwalin said they would have to tell the King first, and that he would decide what to do."

"But we didn't want to wait for that," explained Âlof, "Me and Gjûki and Hogni got away and came with Cellissel. We want to help save Prince Kili!"

Fili tugged his moustache braids in thought. "Thorin is aware that Kili was kidnapped - that's why he sent me," he said, "He advised me to take someone with me, but there was no one around who could come at such short notice so I went alone. I doubt that Thorin would have sent Dwalin back out to follow me. I do not think there is any more help coming from the Mountain."

"There will be members of the guard who will help," said Cellissel, "Brúthor already said he will come."

"Hinnor said he'll help," said Âlof grumpily.

"You do realise that this is dangerous," said Fili warily, "No doubt the mastermind behind this employs more people than we have met so far."

"Of coure it's dangerous!" exclaimed Hogni, "But that means Prince Kili's also in danger so you're not going to stop us going." He glared impressively, crossing his arms across his stout chest.

"We came here because we're not scared," added Gjûki.

Fili frowned. "Overconfidence is not a good thing when it comes to enemies like this one," he cautioned.

Gjûki rolled his eyes. "Of course we're scared of the baddies - at least, just a little - but what I mean is we're not scared of getting punished by Dwalin for breaking rules! It's worth it to help you rescue Prince Kili."

Fili couldn't help but smile. The loyalty his brother had found in these dwarves - and indeed elves - was well deserved, so who was he to tell them not to help?

"So when do we leave?" said Âlof eagerly, seeing his change in demeanor, and the brothers nodded in agreement.

Fili glanced behind him to the healing corridor, and wondered where the horses had gone because he hadn't noticed them being led away.

"As soon as Legolas is ready," he replied.

"Wait - the Prince is coming with us?" exclaimed Cellissel.

Fili shrugged and nodded. "He said so. He has unfinished business in Esgaroth as well."

"How soon will that be?" persisted Âlof.

"Not long, I hope," replied Fili, "It might be a good idea to gather everyone who is coming."

"Good idea - I'll run round and find Hinnor, he'll know where everyone else is," said Celissel, and in a blink she was gone.

The dwarves didn't have to wait long before the rest of the group started arriving. Apparently Cellissel had instructed them to find the four dwarves in the middle of the hall, and at least that was not a hard task. First came Hinnor, looking a little dejected but determined nonetheless - it seemed that two of his friends had refused to come with him, but he had already made up his mind and came anyway. Then there were two younger elf cadets who had been at the outpost, eager for more experience of real fighting, though Fili secretly thought they seemed a little too keen which was usually a sign that they were not yet ready.

Cellissel arrived back not long after that, explaining that Brúthor was on his way with another member of the guard. Barely a minute later, the Elven guard arrived, uniform unusually immaculate and Amras in tow. The second elf smiled as he saw Fili, and Fili smiled back, but both smiles were somewhat subdued by the arrangement of things.

"Is this it then?" asked Amras, looking around and frowning at the two younger elf cadets. "Are you sure that this is the best idea?"

"As far as I can tell, we are not facing many enemies but they are well prepared," replied Fili carefully, conveying his meaning with a look: we can manage without extra cadets but they will be in danger if they come.

Amras nodded his agreement. "I'm sorry, Galben and Midhon. I cannot allow you to come on this mission."

"What?" exclaimed one of them, outraged, "But they're going!" He pointed at the brothers, Gjûki and Hogni.

"They have travelled down from the Mountain," explained Amras, "And they have the permission of their trainer."

The young dwarves smirked, knowing this was not strictly true, and shifted their weapons on their backs in a satisfied way.

"But can't you give us permission?" pleaded the other young elf.

"I'm sorry, Midhon. I'm saying no this time," replied Amras, "I see your good intentions and I am pleased that you are willing to step up like this, but your safety matters more and it is unnecessary for you to be put in this danger. I will hear no more on the matter, now please would you return to your families."

They both hung their heads, muttering, "Yes, sir," and walked despondently away. Amras turned back to the group.

"Eight of us then? Nine with the Prince?" he asked, and Fili nodded, taking in the four elves and three dwarves surrounding him.

"On foot?" said Âlof hopefully.

"Yes, we will travel together," said Brúthor, "If we move quickly we will arrive in Esgaroth before sunset."

"What happens when we get there?" asked Hogni excitedly.

"That depends on a number of things," replied Fili, "Most probably we will send a couple of elves to spy out the situation before making a plan of action."

"Look, here comes Legolas!" said Amras suddenly, and they all turned to see the Elven prince coming towards them, looking a lot more relaxed than Fili had seen him that day. He even smiled as he approached.

"My father says that Tauriel will live," he informed them as soon as he came level with the group, "She has not woken yet and may not for a while but there is no longer any immediate danger."

Fili smiled in relief. "That is good. You are coming with us, then?"

"I don't have much choice - I'm a wanted villain, remember?" he replied with a twinkle in his eye that Fili was glad to see return.

"I assume we're off now, then?" said Brúthor cheerily.

"We are," confirmed Legolas, shifting his bow on his shoulder, "And a raven just came in with the exact location of the criminals we pursue. There is someone else on our side."

* * *

><p>When Kili next regained consciousness, his first sensation was one of extreme lightheadedness which did not go away. He was glad of it, in a way, because it seemed to have reduced the pain from his injuries to a low throb. On the other hand, the whole place seemed to have heated up to an almost unbearable level and he could feel sweat on his palms. Most likely it was some new torture his captors had invented. Or had they set the whole building on fire? He opened his eyes blearily.<p>

A face swam in front of him, which he knew he had seen before but could not pinpoint where. It was the face of a young dwarf. Said young dwarf seemed to be holding a wet rag to his forehead with one hand and using the other to tie a bandage - which was really no more than a strip of cloth torn from the boy's own tunic - around his shoulder. Kili didn't know how he was tying a bandage with only one hand, but he was doing it somehow. He drew his brows together with an effort.

"What -"

"It's me, Svîur," said the dwarfling in a reassuring tone, "I think you've got a fever. They put me in here to stop you dying."

"Svî-ur?" mumbled Kili, then he suddenly remembered and his eyes widened beneath the swelling purple bruises that covered his whole face. He had met Svîur outside the stables the night he had ridden to Mirkwood and back - had that only been last night? It seemed much longer ago. He remembered how he had promised extra coins to the lad if he kept the journey a secret.

"They said it's your leg that's infected," explained Svîur, "But your shoulder was bleeding a lot so I bandaged it. I had to take your shirt off, sorry."

Kili suddenly realised that he was indeed without his shirt - not that the garment had been much by the end anyway - and wondered vaguely how he was not cold in this dark dungeon with his bare back flat against the cold stone floor. All right, he was shivering a little, but inside he felt like a forge. His head was a mess of contradictions - it felt as light as a feather and yet there seemed to be something crushing his brain inside his skull on all sides, meaning he could barely think straight let alone form a sentence.

"Why...you..." he slurred, feeling his head throb, but Svîur seemed to get his message.

"They kidnapped me this morning," he explained, "They need my da for their plans so they threaten to hurt me to make him do stuff."

It took a moment or two, but finally Kili realised why Svithrir had looked familiar and felt a deep pang of sympathy for the dwarf who had promised to help him. He hoped more than anything that both father and son would come out of this unscathed - though looking closer he was shocked to see already the faint outline of a growing bruise on Svîur's cheek. Anger at Lord and all those working for him surged through Kili, but there was nothing he could do about it, helpless as he was; he did not even have the strength to sit up so there was nothing to do but hope that rescue came soon. He didn't hold much hope now.

"Is it okay if I clean your leg?" asked Svîur presently, then he added sheepishly, "I might have to rip your trousers at the knee."

"I..." Kili began, pausing as he took a deep breath and willed his brain to work, "I promise...not to sue you for new trousers." He forced a grin, though it was certainly more of a grimace.

The ghost of a smile came over Svîur's face and he quickly untied Yarvin's makeshift bandage from Kili's thigh and used the bottom of the existing rip where the knife had pierced through the fabric to begin a rip round the circumference of one leg of Kili's trousers. The remaining part of that leg he rolled up until the whole grisly wound was exposed.

Kili could not see the stab wound himself because of his horizontal position, but he could see the grimace on Svîur's face as it was revealed. A rag was dumped in a bowl of water - possibly his drinking water from earlier, or possibly a rare act of consideration from his captors in wanting to keep him alive to ransom back to Thorin, he didn't know - and as Svîur began to clean his wound, Kili felt only an ache from the surrounding area but no pain as yet from the deep cut itself. He wondered whether this was a good or a bad thing.

A sudden shout came from the room above, and the sounds of a scuffle. Another shout made Svîur sit up very sharply.

"That was Da," he said tensely. He returned to dabbing at Kili's wound with the cloth, but he now seemed preoccupied in listening to the sounds above.

He was right to pay attention, because a minute or so later the door opened onto the lamplit corridor of cells and the elf who had so enjoyed interrogating Kili stepped through, keys in hand. He stopped outside the only occupied cell and jangled the keys tauntingly.

"Ickle baby, Lord wants to see you," he cooed mockingly, fitting the key to the lock and turning it.

Svîur didn't pause from his work until he had bound Kili's leg again with a cleaner strip of fabric, then wetted another rag and replaced it on Kili's forehead. The young dwarfling then turned around and pulled himself up to his full height facing the much taller elf. The iron door swung open, and the dwarfling marched through it, head held high, and walked straight down the corridor, not even waiting for Ulunnor the elf to re-lock the cell. Kili was left alone.

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><p>Thorin looked out at the darkening sky with his most trusted friends at his side, worry gnawing at his conscience. He knew that Fili had ignored his advice and gone after Kili alone, and though he had every confidence in his nephew's fighting abilities he could not help but wonder why they had not returned by now. Kili had only been in Dale, and Fili would have at least sent a raven back as reassurance if he was going to stay longer. Something bad had happened.<p>

"They know how to take care of themselves, Thorin, but that doesn't mean they can do everything," said Balin sagely. "It has been too long. Soon it will be dark and there will be no safe travelling."

"I will go," said Dwalin, "I should have gone with him in the first place, had I been here."

Thorin nodded in agreement. "Very well. But do not go alone, I don't want another person to worry about."

"Gloin finished work an hour ago; he was planning to travel south tomorrow morning but I am sure he will be happy to rearrange it for tonight," said Balin.

"I will go and see him then," said Dwalin, "And I promise to send a raven as soon as there is any news."

"Thank you," said Thorin, "You put my mind at ease. Though if you do not return by tomorrow noon we may meet next beyond these walls."

"Indeed, we had all better be there," replied Dwalin, grinning suddenly, "I wouldn't miss watching my King almost murdered by his own sister for anything."

Thorin scowled playfully. "You had better bring back my nephews, or it will be actual murder, and yours too," he retorted, but there was a smile in his eyes.

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><p><em>See, I can be nice! Who guessed that Svîur was related to Svithrir? And what do you think Thorin is on about?<em>

_People who review get scrumptious squishy white chocolate cookies!_


	17. Chapter 17

_And here is your new chapter! I managed to get it out to you in the end, thanks to you lovely reviewers :)_

_Kili the Guest and FiliBalrogSlayer, so sorry my genius plan didn't work! I did write responses to both of you but as soon as I hit the "moderate" button it deleted them! So I've shoved the replies on the bottom of the end author's note so you do get them after all :)_

_Things are looking brighter now, at last! And there are a couple of surprise appearences here that won't be a surprise to some of you... E__njoy the chapter!_

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><p>"One question," Cellissel spoke up from the back of the group as they made their way through the enchanted gates, "Who is in charge?"<p>

Everyone looked to Fili and Legolas, who were leading at the front. They looked at each other. Fili shrugged.

"You know Laketown better than I."

"Better than I'd like," admitted Legolas, "Very well then. I will lead."

Âlof frowned a little, but everyone seemed to accept this without question. Just as they were about to move off again, an elf wearing the uniform of the Guard sprung lightly out of the trees and came down the short slope towards the gate.

"I come with news for King Thranduil," she said as she reached Legolas.

"He cannot be disturbed right now," replied Legolas, "You may tell me."

"The caravan of dwarves travelling along our path has reached the inner borders of our realm. Are we to make ourselves known?"

Fili's head jerked up at this, his attention piqued.

Legolas thought for a moment before answering. "We shall take a short detour, I think, and I shall greet them myself. Fili, am I correct in thinking that you know of this caravan?"

Fili nodded. "I am almost certain that it is the one from Ered Luin. They have arrived faster than expected, but if my guess is correct, my mother is among them."

"Then you will certainly want to see her," said Legolas.

"Yes..." replied Fili slowly, then sighed. "But she will ask where Kili is, and she won't care for my dignity when she finds out I haven't looked after him well enough. You might want to stand well back and cover your ears. But yes, I do want to see her again."

"I see," said Legolas with an amused twinkle in his eye, before turning back to the elf guard. "Thank you, Nienna. I would be grateful if you could take responsibility of the Guard while Amras and I are in Esgaroth."

Nienna frowned. "What about Tauriel?"

Legolas' face grew somber as he replied, "She has been gravely hurt and my father is tending to her as we speak. It will be a while before she returns to duty."

"Oh..." said Nienna, shock showing in her features. "Oh...I see." She bowed. "I will do as you command, your highness. But please come back soon," she added.

"I will do my best," replied Legolas, "I will not be more than a day, I hope." He turned to the group gathered behind him. "Let us go, and make haste. We now have another errand, so we cannot afford any delay."

Nienna bowed as he passed and smiled at Cellissel. She looked curiously at the three young dwarves, and nodded to Amras and Brúthor. She raised her eyebrows at Hinnor but he just grinned cheekily back, proud to be included in such a group.

Unfortunately, it was already dusk by the time they reached the main part of the Elven path, and the younger dwarves were lagging behind. Cellissel was ordered to scout back along the path and tell them how far away the dwarves were. Two minutes later she returned, and told them that the group was led by a stern and bearded dwarf but unfortunately and confusingly there wasn't a single female among them. They were less than a minute away.

Fili chuckled, knowing quite well that there were many females among them, though doubless less than half of the full numbers due to the scarcity of women in the dwarvish race. The path was twisting so he would not see his mother until they were less than a dozen feet away from each other, and he was finding it hard to contain childish excitement and the accumulated ache of more than a year without seeing her. The elves waited apprehensively, and only Gjûki and Hogni seemed relaxed.

"Perhaps some of us should stay out of the way," suggested Brúthor with a hint of strain in his voice, and Fili realised that some of the elves were actually nervous about meeting his mother. Well, he was too, but that was for a very good reason.

"If you want, you may hide yourself in the trees," accepted Legolas, "It may be better if there are fewer elves here."

In a few seconds, their number had gone down by one third as Brúthor, Cellissel and Hinnor disappeared into the foliage on their left and right, leaving Fili on the path with Legolas, Amras and the three young dwarves. He agreed that they would probably get a much better reception if the elves were outnumbered.

At last, after a minute that seemed more like an hour, the sound of creaking wheels and tramping feet became louder and from between the trees Fili saw a single-file line of short, stout figures in dark travelling gear. They came around the corner and suddenly they stopped. Fili felt a lump grow in his throat as for the first time in over a year he set eyes on his mother. She was at the front and she saw him immediately, her face crinkling with emotion, and as she opened her arms to him Fili launched himself into them and clung on like never before, not noticing and not caring that a whole caravan of dwarves and five elves watched them with a range of emotions.

They embraced for what could have been a minute or an hour, but all Fili could think was how much he had missed her. Dís clung back with equal ferocity and Fili could feel her shaking slightly into his shoulder. Finally, they broke apart but not completely, keeping their hands on each other's shoulders and looking into the other's face. It was Dis who spoke first.

"Oh my boy, look how much you've grown."

Fili, having stopped increasing in height a few decades ago, did not contradict her because he knew full well that she did not refer to stature.

"I've missed you, Ma," he said quietly.

"And I have missed you too, love," she replied, "and worried about you every single day since you left with that idiot brother of mine. Oh, when I see him he will rue the day he ever thought of taking you on such a foolish quest. Six months without a single raven! Six months, not knowing whether you were alive, captured, dead even!"

Fili simply nodded in general agreement, knowing that to say anything at all here would be to fuel his mother's argument. He pitied Thorin, who would no doubt receive the full rant later, but his sense of self-preservation told him to let the topic change as soon as possible.

"You have no idea how much it relieves me to see you alive and well," said Dís, "But where is Kili? Has Thorin finally managed to separate the single entity?"

"Um..." replied Fili, "He's in a bit of a scrape at the moment, we were just on our way to get him out of it, but we heard that you were on your way so we decided to greet you first."

Dis raised an eyebrow. "And who is 'we'?" she asked, looking past Fili for the first time and seeing the two elves who had decided to remain on the path.

Legolas, taking this as his cue, stepped forward and bowed low. "Legolas Thranduillon, Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, at your service," he greeted dwarf-fashion. "It is an honour to meet you, Princess Dis."

Thorin's younger sister looked at once taken aback and pleasantly surprised. "I see you have been able to teach them some manners, Fili. You have my congratulations." She looked Legolas over with a sharp eye. "So you're Thranduil's son? You don't take after him, I presume, otherwise Fili would not have chosen you for company."

"I do not aspire to be like anyone, only to do what I deem is the right thing, my lady," replied Legolas neutrally. "And after circumstances forced us to work together, I found your son to be excellent company," he added.

"Ah, so it wasn't an initial choice," noted Dis shrewdly, "Well, if we're off to drag my youngest son out of trouble I suppose I had better come too."

"Bring a sword," advised Fili. He had known that it would come to this all along.

Dis patted her hip, where Thorin's previous second-best sword rested. Then she turned to a woman beside her and gave a few short instructions. Fili recognised Gloin's wife, Ristil. Suddenly, a red head poked out of the first wagon in the line and broke into a grin as he saw Fili. Fili grinned back at his sixty-ish-year-old cousin and watched Gimli drop down from the wagon and run to meet him.

They embraced with a manly hug and thumped each other hard on the back.

"Great to see you, Gimli," grinned Fili, "Have you grown?"

"Just the beard," replied Gimli with a wink, "I'm still beating you. Serves you right for going on an adventure without me."

Fili laughed. He had learned to ignore his cousin's boasting about his (admittedly impressive) beard. Kili always took it more bitterly, but since Fili had the patience of an older brother he was able to tolerate it in good humour.

"You wouldn't have liked it that much, believe me," said Fili, "Adventuring isn't at all like it sounds in stories. For one thing, they skip over all the days when absolutely nothing at all happens, which is most of them. For another, when something does happen, it's usually bad and while it sounds exciting and everything it's really not." He looked the redhead in the eye and saw Gimli's face become puzzled for a moment.

"You've changed," he said slowly, "And I don't mean that in a bad way, but something's different about you. You're older."

Fili shrugged and grimaced. "It happens. I saw a lot of death. I thought I was going to die a few times. But I'm still the same person."

"Fili," said Legolas, reminding him that there would be time for catching up later but right now they had Kili to rescue.

"Sorry, I've got to go now," Fili said to Gimli, "Kili's in a scrape and we've got to get him out of it."

"Why does that not surprise me?" replied Gimli, rolling his eyes. "Can I come? An extra axe is never a bad thing."

"No, you most certainly cannot," came the voice of Ristil. "You are staying right here with me. Now that we are finally close to home I am not having you running off into danger willy-nilly at every opportunity. Next thing you'll be asking to fight a Mûmak."

Gimli sighed heavily. "Fine, Ma, I'll stay here. Happy now?"

Ristil humphed and Fili felt his mother's hand on his shoulder, so he turned to see Legolas beckoning the way. They moved on, leaving the line of wagons behind, and as they went - the three young dwarves, Fili and Dis, Legolas and Amras - the other three elves blended out of the trees and joined the group quietly at the back. They reached the edge of the forest soon enough and were moving across the darkening plain between Mirkwood and Esgaroth beside the forest river.

"So are you going to tell me anything?" demanded Dis suddenly.

"Like what?" asked Fili, turning around and counting their numbers yet again. Ten, including himself. He let himself relax momentarily.

"Like what these children are doing with us, and why there are so many elves coming along, and what kind of trouble your brother is in to begin with," said Dis impatiently.

"These are cadets," said Fili, gesturing to Âlof, Gjûki and Hogni, "They have been part of a group that Kili was training and they wanted to help."

"It sounds like there was rule-breaking involved," said Dis wryly.

"Well...yes," sighed Fili, "I'm not entirely sure how, but they got away from Dwalin and came south with Cellissel."

"Cellissel?"

"At your service," the elf in question interjected from a few paces ahead of them, turning round and doing a short bow while walking backwards before twirling round to walk forwards again.

Dis frowned and said under her breath, "They trust an elf?"

Fili shrugged. "Things have changed a lot. We're close neighbors now so we might as well be friends."

The dwarrowdam sighed. "I'm sorry Fili. It's going to be a while before I'm used to this."

"That's all right, Amad," replied her son with a rueful smile, "You're still nowhere near as bad as Uncle."

Dis smiled knowingly at that and rolled her eyes. "I suppose that answers my second question then," she said, "but I still find it hard to believe that they're all here because of Kili."

"That's not the only reason," admitted Fili, "There are some exiled elves involved, which makes it their business too."

"I see," nodded Dis, satisfied with the answer. "Then I think it's about time you told me what this is all about. How bad is it this time?"

"Bad," said Fili grimly, "They've been beating him up because they think he has something - information maybe, or they wouldn't have settled with capturing him instead of me - that they want, and when I last saw him he could barely walk. We would have won the fight against them but they fled at the last minute and we couldn't pursue because one of us was badly hurt in the fight."

Dis frowned, carefully storing away her deep worry for her youngest until the right moment. "Surely it doesn't take that many to care for an injured dwarf?"

"Elf," corrected Fili, "And there were only three of us."

Dis raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to elaborate.

"Somehow we had all found out about the plot and ran into each other in Dale, all coming to rescue Kili...actually, Legolas thought he was looking for me because he didn't realise that Kili was in Dale instead...anyway, we found them in an empty barn and we were fine until the extra elves arrived. Then the elf that Tauriel was restraining managed to break away and stab her, and I ended up fighting three men and Legolas ended up fighting three elves and I was on the verge of ending their leader when he called the retreat. We couldn't stop them, and Tauriel was near death so I rode to Mirkwood -"

"On a horse?" interrupted his mother in surprise.

"Don't ask me how," replied Fili, "I found the Elvenking and rode back with him to Dale and he healed Tauriel enough for her to travel so we all rode back here and prepared to go after Kili and Cellissel turned up with the cadets and we gathered some others who wanted to help and just as we were leaving we heard that you were near so we made a quick detour. That's about it."

"So do we know where we're going or are we walking blindly into..." Dis frowned suddenly. "I heard that Laketown was destroyed. Have they built it again?"

"They have built it, but not on the lake this time. The place holds too many bad memories for most people. They have built it again on the south shore."

"I see," replied Dis, "And does it still have a Master? Does he know nothing about this?"

"That's complicated," said Fili, "It's another reason Legolas is here. I've heard that he had a few problems regarding Laketown's politics which is how he discovered the plot in the first place and ended up in Dale. We haven't had much time to share information yet, so I don't know a lot about it, but I'm sure we'll all find out eventually."

"Hmmph," the Dwarrowdam replied to this unsatisfactory answer, but she did not pursue the topic. Instead, they marched faster for a while, making sure that the young dwarves were keeping up and that Cellissel and Hinnor did not accidentally get too far ahead. Before they knew it, Esgaroth was in view.

As the group entered the outskirts of the town, Legolas stopped and suggested they split up.

"We are too conspicuous like this," he said, "There are spies everywhere, and though the person against whom I was originally warned is dead, it is certain that our current enemies will have eyes and ears everywhere. Fili will lead one group, and Brúthor will guide the other. Cellissel will move between them and spy ahead."

"What about you?" Amras interrupted, "Won't you lead a group?"

Legolas looked a bit embarrassed but covered it well. "I must go alone and keep out of sight. If I'm recognised it will be all the worse for all of us. We will meet back up at the Master's mansion."

"The Master's mansion?" queried Dis.

"According to a raven that came to the Palace, that is where they are holding Kili," replied Legolas.

"And if it's a trap?" she challenged.

"That is unlikely," replied the elf prince, "The message came to the Forest, and if it is Fili that they intend to lure into a trap they would have sent the raven directly to him, not knowing where he went, or else to Dale or the Mountain, assuming that he would return there for reinforcements. Eryn Lasgalen is the last place they would think to find a dwarf. It would seem that whoever sent the message guessed where we would go after the fight, and the only person who could have done that is Kili himself."

"But Kili couldn't have sent it," said Fili, puzzled.

"Then he must have found an ally who could help him," Legolas concluded. "It doesn't matter who, however, for the moment - only that they do not mean to trick us."

Dis nodded, accepting this logic for the time being.

"I have not been here recently," admitted Fili, "I do not know the streets."

"It is easy enough," said Brúthor, "You will have to go straight along this one until you reach the town square, and then the mansion will be right in front of you. We do not know what we will find there which is why Cellissel will scout ahead."

Fili looked around and saw that even as they talked their pack of ten had split into dwarves and elves. He supposed this would be the most inconspicuous arrangement, after all.

"Regroup at the mansion," he repeated, checking the detail.

"If the situation allows it," confirmed Legolas. "Until then, good luck."

He turned tail and disappeared around the corner of a shabbily built cottage, and with a wave, Brúthor and the other elves set off in the other direction around the edge of the settlement. Cellissel was already nowhere to be seen. Fili turned to the other dwarves, the three young warriors and his mother, and with an expression of determination led them into Laketown.

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><p>Kili did not know how much time passed before Svîur returned. All he knew was that it was too hot and yet the skin of his bare back felt cold and his splitting headache was only getting worse, but at least he was thinking which had to be a good thing. He just wanted to go to sleep, and for all this to end, but instinctively he knew that sleep would not be so peaceful. He forced himself to stay conscious.<p>

The violent bang of a door was followed by two sets of footsteps, one more urgent than the other, the clink of keys, the scrape of a rusty hinge, a thud of something being thrown and more urgent footsteps, then the whole sequence again backwards, only this time there was only one set of footsteps and they were calm and oddly satisfied. Then, as the light was once again diminished to a single torch, a sob.

Kili couldn't stand it. He had to know what was happening in more than sounds. Gathering his strength and ignoring how much his leg ached, he rolled onto his side and began to push himself up on one arm.

Wrong arm. His wrist, which he had forgotten about, gave way and he landed hard on his shoulder. At least it was his good shoulder. The memory of Sodrunn twisting his arm behind his back just before the rescue attempt came back to him and he groaned. He knew his other shoulder wouldn't support him.

Slower than before, he pushed himself up onto his elbow and managed to bend the knee of his good leg so that he was balancing precariously on the two points. Then, judging that he could ignore the pain, he gradually straightened his elbow so that half of his weight rested on his bad wrist. He could take it. For balance he put down his other arm but kept as much pressure off it as possible. Slowly, ever so slowly so that his head did not spin, he shuffled forward.

It seemed an age before he reached the bars. When he got there he moved his weight to the side and rested himself against the side wall, exhausted. His vision was blurry and his insides felt like they were being boiled above a mountain-troll's cooking fire. His wrist, shoulder and thigh hurt most of all. He tore his attention away from himself and looked across to the opposite cell, waiting patiently for his vision to clear.

As the colourful fireworks in front of his eyes cleared away, Kili found himself looking directly into someone's face. A moment later he realised it was Svithrir. A moment after that he saw that in the father's arms lay Svîur, unconscious with a wide stream of dried blood running down the side of his head, and no doubt more injuries hidden from sight under the cloak that was wrapped around him. A cold hatred of his captors washed over Kili, and for a moment he thought it might even quench the fever but it only made him shiver all the more.

Svithrir was looking at him, sorrow in his eyes. Suddenly Kili wondered if he had been able to send the message. He closed his eyes and composed his brain, blocking out the knives of pain that kept rattling through it.

"Will help come?" he asked slowly, his voice cracked and dry.

"I sent the raven," replied Svithrir quietly, "I was caught on my way back in and now I have brought this upon my own son."

"Will he be all right?" Kili asked, almost not daring to hope.

"I hope so," replied the older dwarf with a sigh, "I hope so." He raised his head to meet Kili's eyes. "You are feverish. You should be lying down."

"I can't," said Kili, "I must know what is going on. I can't let myself fall asleep or I don't know when I'll wake up again."

"Not much is going on any more," said Svithrir, "They can't decide what to do. More men have arrived; I never knew that orc-spawn had so many people working for him. The one plan they have is to wait until your brother comes - which they are sure will happen at some point - and capture him as well."

Kili cursed under his breath, but a part of him was beginning to hope. If Fili received the raven then he would certainly be on his way, and hopefully with a few elves behind him too. If all went well it would only be a matter of time before a rescue came.

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><p><em>There are still cookies left over from last week for any lovely person who takes the time to leave a review! People who have already had cookies now get a cake of their choice :D<em>

_~O~_

_Kili the Guest: haha hyper reviews are the best! And yeah, I couldn't kill Tauriel, I think I've been mean enough to poor Kili already (though he still doesn't know she's alive...oops...) I'm so happy that you like Cellissel! I like her too, actually :) so sorry the review-y reply-y thing didn't work :( I may end up putting them on the end of here permenantly._

_FiliBalrogSlayer: nooo! Tell the flying waffle-monsters to bring Kili back! I need him for the next chapter! And yes, I suppose Thranduil was the hero for a short time...wow, I never thought that would happen in one of my stories! Generally in my mind he's a fabulous villain/Santa Claus. More nicesss chaptersessss coming, precioussss!_


	18. Chapter 18

**KiliDragonFriend and FiliBalrogSlayer - replies for THIS chapter! And I'm leaving last chaper's stuff here until I post the next one and then I'll edit it all out at once :)**

**FiliBalrogSlayer: hey, have some double dark chocolate cookies to go with that hot cocoa - and literally as I typed that my mum came up and told me she's made me cocoa. Yay! I'm so happy that you enjoyed the chapter so much - poor Dis, she's been away from her boys for so long and she really didn't need to come back to this - but she's with both of them now and if she can't make it all right then I don't know who can :) and Kili asked me to thank you for the hugs and waffles (and lack of waffle-monsters, since I was nice with the end of this chapter, for once!) however if you are visiting KiliDragonFriend you may receive it first hand, since the one chapter that you don't kidnap him, she does instead!**

**KiliDragonFriend: next time, kidnap me as well? Watch Sherlock, eat chocolate and sing Let it Go - I think I would be happy doing that my whole life! Do you have a piano? I could bring my Disney song book and Thorin as well because he's a good singer and Bombur to cook the party food and of course I'd have to invite Ori and Gimli would come anyway and they would probably all bring their families and - what's that? You don't want a repeat of Rivendell in your house? So I'm not allowed to invite the entire company to crash in your living room? Well, I suppose that's fair enough. (Still, about time they caught up with Sherlock. When I borrowed my friend's box set Bilbo and Smaug teamed up to hide it whenever I suggested the Company watch them so I ended up watching them all on my own)**

**One week of exams down, one to go! The next update will be next weekend :)**

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><p><strong><em>Hi! Because I guess most people will have read this chapter by now, I'm editing in responses to you reviews last chapter on the grounds that, as guests, you must check this page often right? Oh okay, I've just said that I'm vanishing for two weeks, but there's still hope (and if one of you sees you can tell the other). Once I update again I'll probably edit it out just because it feels weird broadcasting review responses to everyone who happens upon this chapter.<em>**

**_KiliDragonFriend: awesome name! Dragons are cool (and most definitely my favourite animal). As for Dis, I couldn't resist bringing her in! And I may have drawn on my own family for inspiration a few times... Respective hugs and slaps have been delivered (I summoned Bilbo from his hobbit hole and told him to pass them on) and half the characters give you their thanks...the other half have disappeared grumpily off to somewhere in evil-land where Smaug will fry them once they've done their part in this story (though not before - Smaug is a very organised dragon). Thank you for protecting me from the waffle-monsters, I'm not sure if I could have made it otherwise. These waffle monsters seem to be multiplying. :)_**

**_FiliBalrogSlayer: hehe, nothing wrong with long reviews! Nothing wrong at all! And mind if I keep a slice of that super dark mocha chocolate with super chocolate coffee fudge frosting cake you asked for? ;) You ask how I write these characters - well, they sort of seem to write themselves! I start with a name then, say, one idea for their personality (sometimes no idea at all) but then as they do more stuff patterns seem to emerge and at some point I'll think of a backstory and...yeah. When I first wrote Svîur it was more like "hey, let's invent a character! Fun!" so I wrote him but sort of mysteriously so I didn't have to create him all at once, which left some questions to answer about him, and then I was like "okay, I think I might bring him back - oh look, I put a dwarf there, let's make them related" so the whole...oh wait, I haven't got to the backstory point yet! Hehe, they get a whole teensy-weensy mini-plotline at some point, so you've got that to look forward to! I'm not a writer - I'm a victim of Highly Spontaneous Imagination. Because that's a thing. Or it is now :)_**

**_And to both of you - I'm sorry my attempts to reply to you have been frantic bordering on desperate, because I've never had two such awesome guest reviewers! Once I find a way that seems to work, I'll stick with it and then we'll be sorted - but please tell me if you actually read this because I'm just crossing my fingers that you've accidentally stumbled across it! If this works I might do it more. Or use the flying waffle monsters as carrier-pigeons. Not sure if they would agree to that. Have some literal lateral ice cream (edit - it turns out FFN keeps eating the literal lateral ice cream so you will have to have splinched ice cream instead - as in, it tried to disapparate and the cone got left behind vO vO) :)_**

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><p><em>Fanfiction: because we really need another way to procrastinate about revision. New catchphrase.<em>

_My apologies for this chapter being on the late side - but thank you thank you thank you all you lovely reviewers :D you make me so happy! It was just over a year ago that I started writing - in fact, it was during study leave for mock exams, and never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would still be writing in a year's time. I'lm just not a words-y person. But I'm still here, thanks to you, and thanks to all the people who have been along for the ride from the very beginning! But also a big thanks to those who have joined along the way, because seriously you have all been the biggest inspiration. Oh dear, this sounds like an "I'm going forever" speech. I'm not going forever, by the way. I'm just saying it because I don't feel I say it enough. And it's been my "writing anniversary". And I'm getting to the topic of mock exams._

_I'm actually revising for them this year. SHOCK HORROR! This evil phenomenon of doom has finally found its way through to me and I'm taking some exams seriously. This is very sad. It means I'm pausing updates for the two-week period of mocks (which starts tomorrow) because I'm stressed enough anyway. It doesn't mean that I'll actually stop writing when I'm not revising, though, so on the bright side, you might get some more regular updates when I come out the other side. Please feed me reviews to last that long or I might drown in maths and never be heard of again._

_And as a bit of a "sorry", you get this chapter :)_

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><p>The streets were almost utterly dark as Legolas crept between them, and it reminded him of the previous night too much for comfort, but if he kept his mind on the objective he could ignore it and focus on the task in hand. Cellissel had come and gone, telling him that the other groups were moving slower than he was so he had time to communicate a meeting place before they arrived.<p>

As he came near the Master's house he scaled a roof and crouched there, squinting through the darkness to make out the shapes either side of the front door. They appeared to be guards, or at least men with weapons. The only light coming from the windows of the house was a dim flicker from one of the top windows, where Legolas estimated the Master's room to be. So the Master was still in there. Did that mean he was behind all this? No, he wouldn't have ordered the execution of his right hand man, or been so shocked to find Legolas standing over the body. Then he must be a captive, if he was in there at all.

The elf crept quietly around the back of the house, noticing that the back door was not guarded from the outside, though it was almost certainly locked. Perhaps that would provide them with an entrance.

Almost as soon as the thought entered his mind, a lock clicked and the door opened, two men armed with swords emerging. They locked the door behind them and placed themselves firmly either side of the door. There would be no secret entry that way.

That messed up Legolas' plans for entering the building without being known. The doors were the only way in or out, except...

Well, he had got in last night without a door, hadn't he?

As silently as he could, he crept back around to the front of the house and peered closer. The darkness was enveloping but he could just make out a jagged line of broken glass around the window pane of the nearest window to him. If they were quiet, they could enter there without the guards at the front door seeing them. It would be hard, especially with the dwarves, but it could be done. Perhaps an open attack on the guards simultaneously would give them the cover they needed...

Cellissel appeared almost soundlessly beside him and he acknowledged her with a nod. Together the two elves slunk back into the shadows around the surrounding houses so that they could speak in whispers.

"We meet directly opposite the mansion," he told her, "We will split into two groups, one to provide a distraction and one to sneak through the broken window."

"There's a broken window? That's unusual," commented Cellissel, knowing how precious glass was, even though it was only really the race of men who ever used it.

"That...that was me, yesterday," admitted Legolas. "I didn't realise how useful it might prove."

"Okey dokey, I'll tell the others," said Cellissel, and disappeared into the night.

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><p>Kili knew that something must be going on when two men with swords marched past his cell and hid themselves in the shadows on the other side, and a minute later Lord himself came down the steps, assessed Kili from the other side of the bars for a moment, then drew out some keys and unlocked the barred gate, tying it loosely shut with a piece of twine. This puzzled Kili until he remembered that it was a trap. After all, he was in no state to escape himself.<p>

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><p>Fili led the small group of dwarves through the encompassing shadows to the last house before the square. The mansion and the guards outside it were in straight view, but he hoped that by staying close to the buildings and moving slowly they had managed to remain unseen by anyone else. The time of night certainly helped for that.<p>

Almost as soon as they had stopped, Legolas dropped down beside them, a habit of elves that still unnerved Fili slightly as it reminded him of the spiders the company had met in Mirkwood. It took Dis by surprise, but the cadets somehow remained unfazed.

"What's the plan?" whispered Fili immediately.

"An open attack, while some of us sneak in through the window," replied Legolas, "The ones who sneak in will find where they hold their prisoners, though I know the most likely place already, and free Kili while the rest of us take out the enemies."

"Kill them?" asked Hogni, wide eyed.

"No, not if we can help it," Legolas assured him, "Get them to surrender, or knock them unconscious. They will all be locked up in the dungeon in the end, hopefully. Only kill if there is no other option."

Dis narrowed her eyes. "How many are going to "sneak" in, and how many will be left to do the fighting?" she asked.

"The fewer who sneak in the better," Legolas answered, "Their sole purpose is to help Kili, so though there will be some fighting, it will be easier to go unnoticed if there are fewer of them and the distraction is bigger."

"You say you think you know where Kili is," said Fili hopefully.

"I assume that they will lock him in the same dungeon they put me in," replied Legolas, "I know the place, far too well for my liking, so I will go with whoever sneaks through the window to find Kili."

"I will go too," said Fili immediately, to the surprise of no one.

Dis looked torn. "The cadets...I can't abandon them to the elves. I'm sorry, Prince Legolas, but I still cannot trust your folk as my son does. I will go with them this time."

Legolas nodded. "Very well, Princess Dis. I take no offence. The others will be glad of your aid."

"Indeed we will," came the deeper voice of Brúthor, stepping out with the other four elves from around a crooked corner. It had taken them longer to reach the meeting spot due to having taken a longer way round.

"I explained the plan already," Cellissel informed them, "We're all ready to go, if you tell us who's doing what."

"Fili and I are going through the window," said Legolas, "Cellissel, you will come with us. The others will enter through the front door. Amras...Princess Dis...I leave it to you to communicate and coordinate it. Do not attack until we are positioned directly beneath the window. Good luck."

With a gesture he beckoned the two who were accompanying him, and Fili followed Cellissel and Legolas as fast as he could go while remaining quiet around a semicircle of houses, until they were opposite the corner of the mansion.

"One at a time," whispered Legolas, then he slipped out from between the houses and ran at a crouch to the stone wall, stopping just beneath the broken window. Fili came next, then Cellissel. Squinting across the dark square, Fili could just make out the shapes of the others at the opposite side. Suddenly, he saw a movement by the main entrance and the two figures standing there dropped to the ground with a thud, unconscious. He couldn't make it out entirely, but Fili thought that figure left standing was probably Brúthor.

"Quickly," hissed Legolas, positioning himself against the wall to give the other two a leg-up. Even with the extra help, Fili could only just reach the ledge, but fortunately he was more than strong enough to pull himself up. Once Cellissel was also up, Legolas grasped Fili's outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled in through the shattered window.

The room was as bare as ever, but it would be a lie to say that it was entirely dark. A dim light filtered through the cracks around the door at the other side, and there was also a thin illuminated line on the floor, approximately six short ends of the floorboards long.

"A trap door!" exclaimed Fili under his breath.

Legolas nodded. "I found it before, but I didn't look at what was through it. I don't know whether we should try it though. The dungeon is not that way."

A clatter came from another part of the mansion, and a shout. The proper fighting had started.

"Let's go the quickest way," said Fili decisively, "Exploring can wait. The others may find it anyway."

They hurried out of the room through the door which turned out to be unlocked, and were surprised to find the staircase deserted. Legolas led the way down the twisting stairs and the others hurried after, but they had not gone more than half the way when they ran into their first opponent. The man was brandishing a sword at them in a menacing fashion, but to the surprise of the other two, Legolas suddenly laughed.

"Edren, fancy seeing you here! I see you were still hoping for part of the profit. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you again," he said, then drew a single knife with a swish.

"There are more coming!" warned Cellissel, drawing her knife too as the flicker of a flame and a large dark shadow loomed around the corner.

"There's only one," Fili confirmed as it came closer, and as it stepped into view he was proven to be right.

Legolas glanced round. "Roren too? Fili, I think you had better just slip past here and we'll follow in a minute. I doubt that this will take long."

Both his swords still snug in their sheathes, Fili ducked easily under the arm of Edren and ignored the man's protests as Legolas engaged him in a casual battle. By the time he had almost reached the bottom he heard two dull thuds echoing down the flight of stairs and assumed that Legolas and Cellissel had done their work.

He knew it was too easy as he walked straight through the door and into the dungeon. He didn't care. All he knew was that Kili was in one of the cells and he had to find him.

"...Fee?"

The feeble moan sent a bucket of icy water cascading over Fili's heart, enclosing it in a cold grip of dread. He looked to the source of the voice he knew so well and before he knew it his feet had carried him over and his arms had wrenched the iron door open, snapping the flimsy twine that held it. He dropped to his knees beside the one he cared for most in the world and relief mixed with a new surge of dread mixed with anger - but all he really wanted in this moment was to make it all right.

"I'm here, Kee," he murmured, letting the cell door swing closed behind him. "I'm here...oh Mahal, what have you been through." He let his eyes sweep over his brother, taking in the swollen, infected wound in his thigh, the bare torso covered in bruises and the blood-soaked rag around his shoulder, the face, purple and blue even in the flickering red light of the one torch illuminating the place. The sweat, the shivering. He didn't know when he had seen his brother worse than this.

"Tauriel..." whispered Kili with an effort, shivering harder. "Is...she...?"

In an instant, Fili shrugged off his swords in their sheathes and removed his outer coat that he had put on back in Erebor for travelling to Dale. Gently, he rested Kili against himself and wrapped the coat around him, feeling slightly colder without it but knowing that it was more needed elsewhere.

"She is alive," said Fili reassuringly, "She is in Mirkwood, and King Thranduil is healing her."

Upon hearing this, Kili visibly relaxed and a ghost of a smile crossed his face. His eyes were drifting closed but he was doing his best to keep them open.

"It's okay," whispered Fili soothingly, seeing what an effort it was taking Kili to stay awake. "Go to sleep, I promise I'll stay right here. They won't lay another finger on you, Kili. They'll die if they do."

"That's all right then," came a nasal voice from behind him, and Fili twisted his head around to see a man standing there, keys already turning in the lock of the cell with him and Kili in. "We won't touch him, but once the others have put an end to your pitiful attack I'm afraid Lord will have a few questions for you."

He laughed, then bent down to pick something up from the ground. With a jolt, Fili saw that the strap of his sheaths was extending slightly beyond the cell and the man was trying to rid him of his weapons. That, as the elves of Mirkwood had found out not a year previously, was rather difficult.

As the man's hand touched the leather, Fili's arm flicked outwards and, with a howl of pain, the man backed away clutching his hand. A throwing knife was stuck firmly into it. As if from nowhere, a second man appeared and pushed the first out of the way, drawing a broadsword and brandishing it in Fili's direction. A second, well judged throw landed the stone hilt of another knife (one of Fili's favourites) between the man's eyebrows, causing his eyes to roll in his head and him to drop his sword as he clattered to the floor. The first man took one look at his unconscious comrade and let out a yelp before sprinting away up the stairs out of the dungeon.

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><p>Dis took yet another look behind her as she led the group through the Master's dark and complexly arranged house. Gjûki and Hogni were there, staying safely near the back as she had instructed, and Amras lingered behind them, an emergency rearguard for extra safety. Brúthor was next to her, having assisted in the effort to break open the doors when no key could be found on the two men the elf had knocked unconscious from behind. Hinnor was on the other side and back a step or two.<p>

To their surprise, the entrance hall had been empty but there were so many doors coming off it that it was impossible to know which one to take. Even Brúthor, who had entered this house once before, could not say which hallway led to the dungeons or anywhere they might find people. Their only lead was that the window entered by Legolas, Cellissel and Fili was to their right, and so was the staircase that Brúthor remembered taking to the Master's great hall. It wasn't much to go on, but it was all they had so they took it.

It turned out that they had made the right decision, because as they came into a hallway which led directly to the staircase they were immediately set upon by two men, one of whom was significantly taller than the other. They each carried swords, but somehow they seemed to hold themselves awkwardly, as if they weren't used to a weapon. Dis thought this was probably true, but that didn't stop her attacking.

The sword that Dis wielded clashed with that of the shorter man, as Brúthor knocked the other off his feet with ease. A couple more deflections on the dwarrowdam's part put the man off balance, and a quick kick to the ankles sent him sprawling. Gjûki arrived just in time to step on his wrist until he let go of the sword, then bound his hands with a strong piece of cord. For good measure they bound his feet as well, then set him against the wall until they could come back for him. He kicked up a good deal of verbal fuss, but that only played into their plan, which was to detract the attention from the other group.

The second man had been knocked unconscious but they bound him anyway and dumped him next to his friend. They had no time to worry about those two now.

Dis turned to the group. "We need to check all floors of this building in case there are more men who might escape, but it is still more likely that we will need more help downstairs, where the others have already gone."

"I can check the upstairs; I have been there once before," said Brúthor, "And I will take Hinnor with me."

"Yes, sir!" saluted Hinnor in eagerness.

"Very well," said Dis, "We will meet back in this corridor."

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><p>Cellissel found fighting in the narrow corridor difficult, especially since she could not dodge behind anything but still had no room for most manoeuvres she knew. The men were not particularly skilled, but they were more adapted to this than she was and it was proving a problem. Her task was not made any easier when an elf she did not know came down the stairs and immediately started fighting her with his long knife. Unable to keep track of both enemies at once, she ducked under the man's arm so she would not be between them, but in an instant the elf had slipped past both her and the man and was attacking her from the other side, further down the stairs near Legolas.<p>

At that moment, the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen saw her problem and suddenly recognised Arradon. In a moment he had sent the man Edren tumbling down the stairs, a thud echoing every time he landed, and was instead fighting Arradon while Cellissel forced Roren slowly up the stairs even with the disadvantage of the lower ground.

Legolas had not forgotten that it had been Arradon who delivered the knife which had almost taken Tauriel's life. He had not forgiven, either.

His face contorted with hatred as he clashed his knife against his enemy's, and it was with no mercy that he turned around his disadvantage of the lower ground and struck his shoulder into the other elf's knees, using a dwarvish throw to send Arradon tumbling headfirst over his shoulder and down the stairs.

He landed painfully next to Edren, who was slowly getting to his feet and clutching his arm, but Legolas paid the man no attention. He could make his slow pitiful way back up the stairs; someone else would deal with him. On the other hand, Arradon scrambled to his feet, shaken but apparently unhurt, and reached for his knife, which had landed on the step in front of him.

The prince was too quick for him, and let his full weight come down on the hand which clutched at the knife, a series of cracks and a cry of pain echoing up the stone steps.

Just then, another sound echoed down the steps, and it was Cellissel's voice.

"The others are here!"

"Stay and help them," Legolas called back, "I will catch up with Fili."

"Yes, sir!" Cellissel replied, and the echoing sound of her retreating feet was, as expected, absent.

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><p>Amras led the way down the coiling stairs and Dis brought up the rear, but they did not get far before they came to a door in the wall that had been flung open, blocking their path. Amras drew level beside the doorway and looked in, then stopped dead.<p>

"I think we've found the hive," he murmured, just loud enough for the dwarves to hear.

Dis stepped past Âlof, Gjuki and Hogni to stand beside the elf and look into the room, and what she saw made her narrow her eyes. A man stood in the centre of the room, facing them with a sneer on his face. On his left stood a man who was as wide as Beorn, and almost as tall, but whose features lacked in both intelligence and compassion. On his right, an elf. To the further left of the huge man, another two more average men who looked slightly uncomfortable at the idea of having an enemy to fight. It was five against five.

"Who do we have here then?" leered the leader, "Is this the group that the great prince of Erebor gathers to rescue his dear brother? Why is he not here himself? Too cowardly to fight, so he sends children instead?"

Dis bristled. "Do not speak of cowardice; you are too ignorant to understand any emotion beyond your lust for power. I pity your stupidity. The sons of Durin were never and will never be cowards; Fili has more valour in his little finger than all of you have put together."

"You're a feisty little man, aren't you?" cackled the leader, "Perhaps you understand less about your own race than you realise."

"And perhaps you know less about Dwarves than you believe," Dis replied in a dangerously low voice, "For I am Dis daughter of Thrain, sister of Thorin King Under the Mountain, mother of the the crown prince Fili, and of Kili whom you have had the insolence to capture and torture. Now, you will pay for your mistakes."

As the princess spoke, the leader's face grew whiter and whiter, and as the last sentence was dealt Dis took a step forward with her sword at the ready. It was too much for the man.

"Kill her!" he ordered, and the hulk of a man stepped forward. "Spare the children," he added as an afterthought, "Ulunnor, the elf is all yours."

As Amras and Ulunnor moved slowly towards one another, the two men standing to the side rounded on Âlof, Gjûki and Hogni. The older dwarfling instinctively moved in front of the younger two, but in the end it made no difference and they were all soon fighting the hardest they had ever fought before.

Meanwhile, Dis found herself against the brute of a man who had been ordered to kill her, but to the man's surprise she held her own and in her anger showed herself to be capable of matching his strength and more. A powerful punch caused him to double over but at that moment Dis was distracted as she saw, out of the corner of her eye, Cellissel race up the stairs and into the room, letting an unconscious man fall behind her.

The two females caught each other's eye.

"We found the basement," Cellissel said above the racket of the fight, "I can handle this if..."

"No," Dis said immediately, giving the man a blow to the head that sent him stumbling backwards, dazed, and giving her more time. Her heart screamed for her boys and it was all she could do not to turn and run straight down the stairs to find them, but she could see that Cellissel was young for an elf and to leave her fighting such a strong opponent was against her nature.

The young elf-guard, however, was not to be put off. She ran forward and launched herself at the giant of a man, just as he swung his sword forward at Dis, and managed to duck under his arm and slice at his bicep as the dwarrowdam blocked the blow. The man turned with a savage expression, but his attention was now on Cellissel rather than Dis.

"Just go!" ordered the elf, seeing the hesitation, "I've got this!" As if to prove her point, she twirled easily out of the way of a swing to her head and danced behind her attacker, giving her knives an experimental twirl as she readied herself for the next challenge.

"Thank you," replied Dis. She was still loath to leave the others here in the middle of a fight which could go either way, but whether she trusted the elves to keep promises or not, at least she trusted their combat abilities. Amras had already overpowered the other elf, and he would now be able to protect the cadets. Dis knew she needed to be with her sons. Taking one last glance at the scene, and noting that Cellissel was already holding her own against the tallest man, she dashed down the stairs to where Fili and Kili awaited her.

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><p>Fili returned his attention to Kili, whose head had sunk down onto his lap and whose eyes were closed but face not peaceful. Instinctively, Fili ran his fingers through his brother's perpetually tangled hair the way their mother used to do, and felt the shivering figure relax and breathe deeper. He kept doing this, oblivious to the world around and unable to wonder what had become of Legolas and Cellissel. Suddenly, out of the darkness, came an unfamiliar but Dwarvish voice.<p>

"My Prince,"

He turned his head, careful not to move his sleeping brother, and saw a face dimly visible in the cell opposite.

"Who are you?" he asked curiously, his hand continuing to comb out the knots in Kili's raven hair.

"Svithrir, at your service," said the dwarf hollowly, "I made a mistake which led to me being dragged into this business and now my son is here too, because of me. They tortured him. They wanted information that I couldn't give, and they asked too much of me. They saw me send the raven to Mirkwood and realised I was not under their control. They tried to manipulate me through little Svîur." He shook his head mournfully. "It was that or do nothing. I could not just ignore it, I have enough guilt resting on my shoulders as it is."

Fili bowed his head, recognising the loyalty that had shone through in this dwarf and repaid him cruelly for it.

"I thank you, for everything you have done," he said, "If not for your raven, we would not have been able to plan our attack or come here so quickly."

Svithrir tilted his head and listened to the noises which were now directly above them - shouting, clashes of steel upon steel, cries of triumph, cries of pain.

"How many did you bring?" asked Svithrir.

"Ten including me," said Fili with a worried glance at the ceiling, "Two of them were meant to be right behind me but it seems they -"

He broke off as the door banged open and an elf was thrown hard across the room, clattering against the far wall and sliding down it. He moaned and looked up in fear at the wrathful figure looming above him. The attacker bent down and lifted the prey by the scruff of the neck with one hand, the other hand holding a knife to its chest. The attacker snarled; the elf whimpered in its grasp.

"You don't deserve to live," hissed Legolas, and with a swift movement his hand came round and the struck Arradon on the head with the hilt of his knife, sending the traitorous elf crumpling to the floor, unconscious.

A call echoed down the corridor along with the sound of heavy footsteps, and as Legolas bent down and scooped up the keys from the man whom Fili had knocked out, Dis came bursting into the hallway.

"My sons!" she cried as she laid eyes upon Fili, kneeling with Kili's head resting in his lap.

"Just a moment, I'm unlocking the cells," said Legolas calmly, fitting the key in the hole and prising the door open with a creak.

"Do mine as well?" came Svithrir's voice from opposite.

Legolas obliged, and a moment later the dwarf walked out of his cell with his son in his arms, looking gravely at the elf prince.

"Can you tell me if he will be all right?" he asked solemnly.

"I will do my best, though I am no healer," replied Legolas, taking the young dwarf carefully in his arms.

Meanwhile, Dis sank to her knees beside both her sons and took the youngest's face in her hands.

"You did not tell me it was this bad," she said softly, an almost imperceptible shake in her voice.

"I did not know," said Fili, bowing his head, "I feel guilty for all of this. It should have been me. It was my fault that our places were exchanged in the first place."

"And how would that have made it any better?" demanded his mother sternly, "This is not your fault, Fili. You had no idea it would come to this."

Fili shook his head. "I still feel responsible."

Dis eyed him shrewdly. "Then maybe you ought to find a step to sit on and rethink the consequences of your recent decisions."

The golden haired dwarf met her gaze, and though his mouth made no movement his eyes for the briefest second smiled in thanks.

"I've missed you, Ma," he sighed and in reply she wrapped him in a one-armed hug, the other hand resting gently on her youngest's shoulder.

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><p><em>So, not a cliffhanger for once? Well, relatively speaking :)<em>

_Oh, and perhaps a shout-out to FiliBalrogSlayer is required, for being the first ever person to get "This message has been truanced due to length. To view in full, please visit site" on a review for one of my stories :D and thanks for getting the waffle monsters to return Fili and Kili - as you can see, the chapter might not have been...well, existent, without them :)_

_Last chapter you got this story to over 100 reviews! Squeeeeeee, that's so exciting! So this week, reviewers get a supply of hot chocolate (with marshmallows and cream if you so desire) to last them two weeks until I'm back :D_


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